Tantra of the Elements

verb's picture

'Oceania' oil painting by Tim Parish

i understand the passage of the winds passing passion
and the cyclone's explosion below the equator's belt of earth,
i have felt the hurricane that bursts forth from the ocean above.
i know the whirlwinds lost in the cities deep valleys, intimately.
i have watched them dancing only with the leaves..
i have listened to them in my reflection.
i have been there too, lost within indecision,
pulled by the strings of desire,
torn by gravities which roar through this streetscape,
spirit funnelled through this corridoor of walls.

i understand the way the rain wishes to kiss my face
greeting me as i lay on the earth.
i understand the electricity of the sky and the planetary,
the half way point at which they meet and spark flame,
i have become drunk on the frustration at unkempt desire, unravelled, unspoken,
that which calls us to act and yet which we resist.
the unforgiving nature of the unresolved spiral
this honest force of nature curled into a ballroom dance,
the dna serpent going around in circles, following its own tail,
but not like the earth
gracefully spinning around the benevolent gaze of the sun,
not like the spiralling motion of the dervish intoxicated with the poetry of the god..
i know sleepless nights of absence,
of meditations upon the new moons gravity,
upon the oceans endless dance,
clouds dreams upon the air's canvas
and the brushstrokes of water vapour splashed across the heavens,
i understand this endless courtship of these elements,
the playful ritual of fire and water
how patient is the stone!
how playful is sky!
how demanding the ocean!
so beautiful, yet so full of pride.
sensual as she envelops us

dangerous and seductive,
engulfing you in her passionate vision of the wet
i wish to paint
a musical score
smooth upon the arch of your back
a final act of love
to conquer your curvaceousness with the cloth of this ink
my blood
a river which runs through the curves of your spine,
dances around your shoulderblades,
those angelwings,
aching to fly.
we are.
i know all this,
the world is calling to itself,
seeking unity in the wild embrace that sparks oblivion
in the spell of romance which all magic beholds
in the magnetism of bodies, like threads, forming,
entwined in this fabric of life

and still
i yearn
for more.