Now let me speak to you of wetness
Moisture
Flow of creek
River
Sea
All life
might spring forth from water but what of the wetness of
Spirit?
What of the space between our legs
The place where heaven begins
Where water pours forth
often to bring joy and pleasure?
The precursor to child birth?
Child sprung in fluid and blood and clean clean water
Wetness surrounded
womb and now
in womanhood.
The wetness that just is there
Resident.
The amniotic fullness of
longing.
Yolk suspended in viscous clarity.
cleansed
alive
pulsing
swimming toward some unknown form
of ecstasy and release
squeals of delight that often resemble falling rain or
the wail of wild cat mourning wife or mother
the call to prayer
A cry to Christ or Allah the Buddha crossing river
The dew drop in its fall from cloud.
The mist rested upon limb.
Steam vents rising through forest canopy.
A face seen in a puddle sky behind this face.
Squall dark ascending.
Vertical water descending.
Waterfall that flows from the hearts desire to a pool
of clear passion.
Revived by a sparking of blossomed garden.
The faucet opened by the hands of myself
as I reach for this transformed spirit.
released by my sorrow.
My Wetness met by tears shed under night sky and full moon.
Face covered in salt my black
shirt stained with white rings of dried salt from this crying
Flooded marsh.
Torrential current.
Spring .
