WATERFALL FOR ANNA AND BARRY

I reach the edge full flooded 

blown, 

and teeter on the brink,

the view of forest fell and swell

lie there before me

spreading their bloomed presence 

with pride and handsome grace,

the deep and dangerous precipice,

I smoothly glide on stones of granite

washed through years of sun-glazed fire

feldspar quartz and pink bright stone,

admire your surface 

as I roam about your shelf

then down to other things much deeper than myself

there are the banks of wild thyme, 

cotton grass and moss

where sprays of tiny fountains fall from my embrace

star spangled, dazzling, intimate cascades

under the fallen tree I tumble dancing wildly, 

madly, free

then into creviced walls of shale I flee, 

oh god-like presence

there beside the lee,

your dark embrace where squeeze 

the leaves of tiny plants release,

they twinkle in the swoon of berries 

rocked in rhythmical unison

the eddies of your cervical room, 

the womb of valleys worshipped groom,

his bride the visions there created

exceeding all that stories tell,

as prince and princess columbine entwine

and reach the golden plains of the divine.