I am on my knees before them,
Yet, they remain strangely unaware
They are driven by sonar,
The redolent aromas of roses, lilies and honeysuckle
Deliciously oblivious yet acutely connected
Their conductor directs them symphonically in a Queenly manner
They are steadfastly autonomous
Whilst our need for them, persists unabated, unrelenting
They do not know this, they do not care, they can remain, or not,
Yet our bodies cleave to them, out of need and fear like a lover
Too late to swoon, already smitten,
We bow our heads to them unabashed, unblushing, swelling,
Our loins how they redden and surge,
The blood coalescing in that warm reservoir betwixt our knees
They have us at their mercy, on bended knee
Too late to say we are sorry, too late to take it back
We suckle at their breast, unapologetically our heads downcast Where we belong; we have done this to you;
We are sorry we scream; can you hear us?
But, the air is thick with oils
Smelt acrid noxious plumes funneling and curling
Poisonous pudding which pollutes our bellies
We need to woo them, we need to LOVE THEM
Even as we fear them, acknowledge the want of them
Unrequited we dance, alone, the tune still in our heads
Our arms outstretched waiting for them
Beseeching them to take us in.
I simply love this poem...the way it masterfully juxtaposes humankind with the natural world. Indeed It calls to mind Tennyson's famous line: ...murmuring of innumerable bees.
Such a wonderful and heartwarming poem about nature, Aria.... a perfect 10++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you for sharing.