Metamorphoses

The One . . . and the Other



Tonight's  the night!

My spine tingles with anticipation

as I sit here awaiting your arrival.



The night,

so dark and warm, is silent, save my soft breathing,

and the nightingale's peaceful lullaby,

floats by on a cool, gentle breeze.

The smell of the pine trees behind me

fills the air,

surrounding me with their sweet scent.

I sigh and close my eyes,

hoping I wait not in vain.



Suddenly, I sense your presence and open my eyes.

There you stand in front of me,

a smile playing on your lips

as you hold out your hand.

I take it, smiling as well,

and rise to embrace you.



The clouds have parted,

revealing a bright full moon,

its silver beams illuminating

the night in all its glory.



Instantly, I feel the ancient song

of our ancestors rise in my bosom.



Glancing at each other one last time,

we close our eyes and give in

to the blissful pain and pleasure

of our metamorphosis.



The Other One



The mutual uninterrupted glances

meld into one mystical mist

as you unblinking watch

my ephemeral existences

take on their variable entities

enveloping you silently

agape with disbelief.



You feel my soundless words

bathe you in their silence:

I am a soulful, fleshless entity,

a mindful spirit Muse eternally

your strength to hold sturdily

yourself no sapling bending in the breeze

beneath my strength my self

your oaken tree.



You deep inhale these wisps of breath

to make them vital part of you.



I stand -- no blood, no bone to break

yet leak that syrup, sap, as mortally

as human blood for Nature's tree,

a Maple bleeding for your love eternally;



You suck with eager lips immortal flow

inhaling droplets making them a part of you.



I am your branches reaching out

to regions far

as hydras arms stretch out

to where you are

unyielding to dire Nature's blasts

Your shadows intertwine my limbs

with yours like hungry vines.



You lay your limpid self as Iris colors in her bow

to make my self as one a part of you.



I am your weeping willow tree

your tears for joy --  for sorrow --  shed in empathy

your fears untold beneath deep umbral shades

that drape your vulnerabilities

beneath its drooping sheath, a verdure shell

protective wreath for lover and beloved as well.



I saw the tears of wonderment well in droplets fall

to bath you in a warm caress, the we of me and you.



Then, it all happened.



My oaken strength imbued you with firm power to withstand

my hard attack, my delicate assault upon your soft restraint.



What liquid oozed from languid pores on rugged bark

lay dormantly untouched, moist tongue unwilling to relent.



My branches held you locked embrace by mutual consent

fingers clasping outstretched tips awaiting song of lark.



My hot vapor exhaled not in exasperation

upon your drenched existence sweat beads



baptizing even now my spirit's foliage

exchanges fluids from your willing pores

fills mine with what you are

as I fill you with what I once had been

your tepid lips expecting heat of mine

to raise your expectation of much more

were singed ecstatically

welded thence to mine,

a swollen surge, Tsunami,

overwhelming torrent

my branches, bark becoming you,

electric thrill with lightning burst

coursed through the essence of my soul

as it, in you, became my whole,

and at the peak of vibrant thrill

against the weakness of my will

myself in you, my lifelessness,

emerged our metamorphosis,

the I now you awaiting me.

and you, as I, wait patiently.