HE COMES BEARING FLOWERS

1.
He is a man
too long in gardens overrun with
honeybees. His
taste is sweet
and smooth on the tongue.

His arms, large petals,
gauzy and
...Colorful blue and white
and orange... Georgia
Okeefe landscapes that open and tremble at
a touch to enfold me.

When
I enter, slipping
fences, changing
floral landscapes that smell nasturtium,
lily and apple blossom sweet, I
sing his giving- place open. Green
tendrils of pleasure seeking his center.

2.
I would like him
to come wearing nothing,
holding nothing between
opened hands, between
calloused fingers, between
us.

I would like him
to come naked,
fresh from morning ablutions, head
tangled and dreaded, dancing in
Heaven's sunlight, full
with thoughts of me, the
infiniteness of life together.

He comes bearing flowers wrapped
in nothing but skin-
black-eye Susans,
looking at me teasingly, Jack-
In-The-Pulpit inviting , me in to pray,
and gardenias that smell
precious, and of
surrender.