Divergent Rivers Poem by Mark Heathcote

Beneath the moon's silver-lit lamp
divergent rivers meandering camp.
In love alone, do they worship
at the tidal wave, in courtship-
like a water flower in its stem
roused joyously in lustful men.
Opaque flesh is unwittingly made divine.
If still pure in petal they're made sublime.
A floral sky in heaven waits
in the dingle wood, and they are at the gates.
Where two young lovers run amok
with passions wanton, awestruck.