Poem To The Earth

I have no words
to charm you, the earth;

my voice is not perfumed
of clay. And to love you
I must drink your gentle water,

drink or drown in it,

though I, with wounds
to which we are born,
would crush this day of sorrow
between our thighs. Like a

woman unrelenting in desire,
your breath becomes a fleshy rose;

and all eyes of the world
at once, all eyes and my
lonely desire, behold your

branches for the very first
time. I reach to touch that
faraway place, where you drink

my secrets dry, and every word
I speak makes love to you.

(from the book 'Echosystem')