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In pursuit of Venus I flee
I flee this persimmon pulsed prison
of goods, cash and thwarted passion
I fling off my cloak, gather my
skirt fast-held for flight in one firm fist
and run
In pursuit of Venus I flee
feet flying into the wild wooded luminous lens
into that eye of wanton white whirling light
Possessions. Past. All now tumbled irrelevancies,
dropped, discarded, already forgotten falsities -
Here in the lush madness of mossy green
I toss my shoes and feel the wet earth
cool, calm and welcoming under the arch of
my soul and arrive, -
panting- slowed – at the edge of that
oft envisioned clearing
Here.
At last.
Bathed in the glory of Venus,
Reflected in the lens of the Goddess
Borne on wings of desire into being
waits
my
beloved
bare arms flung wide
in rapacious anticipation
and
I
stop.
