Such Sweet Inevitability

In all the ripe and rooting beauty,

Expected of a planetary deity,

Mother Nether in her infinite pleasure,

Upended such a pollinating woodland glee,

That, sprouting and spreading

Every tree was shedding, whirlygigs into the meadow weeds,

Where greens and browns and reds, they spread

Until all pleasures, paining, abstained in need!

Peppering the rocks and knots of trees,

Such an arc did mark the deed!

Where sweet release had grown to complete,

Fruition, in the midst of all things heard and seen;

For desire had been doused at last,

And the seashell unclasped,

To yield its pearlescent beads,

Leaving the grassy sheets beneath one's feet

As the resting place for the Sun's own shining seeds;

Here within the woodland maze,

(Indeed, a rhythmic tune, He played!)

When the dancing limbs of the Minstrel grew,

Enhanced by the hymns of the Maidens' praise,

And as He looked long at the lady, and she at him

(Her eyes were laughing in so many different ways)

Wordlessly they spoke,

Giving birth to Cedar, Beech, and Oak,

As the Forest grew in the sunlit haze;

As if the Below and the Above,

Were bridged with every glance and gaze,

Their perceiving pools,

(Over which the planets rule)

Grew glassy and over-glazed,

And with hands clasped together,

Vine to vine, and ray to ray,

What, indeed, was there left to say?

As they basked in this harmony,

That would last,

Beyond! The end of all their mortal days;

Where the pounding waves did settle,

'neath the Moon and Sunlight basking,

The minstrel reclined against a tree,

With moss beneath his straps and all,

His loosened clasps and fastenings;

And rather than merely speak, he did sing,

As if in reverance for what laid beneath the mortal bodies' masking,

Where the resplendancy of such energy freed,

Vibrated to the Hum! The silent, sonorous strum,

Of harmony everlasting!

And so in soft strumming tunes and spoken runes,

Intermingling in the lovers' midst,

There came the sounds of music,

Echoing for a distance,

(As if carried upon the winds and mist),

And as the minstrel softly sang,

And the Maiden danced, in step with This,

The very air was kissed,

With all the different hints and tones,

That shored together this harmonic resonance;

The Lovers' union was closing gaps,

As sure as the Mothers' feet did beat and tap!

Shaking the roots of the trees, who forever agreed,

With every rustle and creak,

And branch that succintly snapped;

And flying in plumes through the Forests',

Growing, greening swathe;

Many a merry moth-wing hovered

Above the revelry bubbling,

Like sweetly, sugared maple sap;

And indeed, it seemed as if the world in spin,

Was now whirling in the billowing of the Maiden's gown,

(That hung from a tree, ever since She so nakedly,

Had uncovered her Maidenly curves & mounds!);

For a gracious softness was now endowed

As soft and airy as feathery down,

And wrapped itself around the world,

Like a shawl, where all could be absolved,

Within its serene, singsonging shroud;

And as the Minstrel sang so softly of the lofty trees,

Under which He found himself now basking,

He had not the heart to intone poems of tidal swells,

(Nor storm-swept knells so classically clashing),

For satiated in His thirsting by the sowing

Of the Mother and Her berry-laden bastion;

The sonorous Sun could not help but sing

Glowingly; His praise overflowing across the trees,

In Springtime and Summer rhymes of passion!

And so in this seeded glade, where Eden Bade,

The fruiting trees to grow their apples and peaches

The sun-baked acres, revealed the majesty of the Mother

In the wake of the Sun's singing, sundering, speeches;

And from beyond the treelines, many eyes did rise

For, creatures as curious as any wizened seeker,

Had come to see, such a beauty, flowering and rooting,

In all her shapely lines and feminine features;

Naked 'neath the moonlit reaches,

She was seen across the sand-strewn beaches,

Where every grain,

A polished mirror, clearly became,

And luminescence was reflected

In a terrestial thesis;

And in these mirrors as clear as Crystal balls,

(Held aloft 'neath tidal squalls,

Weathered by the wise and worldly teachers);

The mysteries of the ages, came uncaged,

From nooks in the Nether and all Heavens' nebulous niches;

Merriment and gentle humor flowed,

Throughout every crevice and niche now merged & wed;

As the Lovers sang of the fruiting,

Above the first tree's roots,

And the tasting of berries of green and red;

For, with no beginning or eventual end,

(And all the world yielding as softly as a feather bed),

The Lovers, together, sang the same lyrics,

That in the Beginning, had been similarly sung & said,

Wonders and awe, that would cause the Lovers to pause,

(And with bated breath grow still);

Did seem to emit amidst such bliss,

As would score the passages of this

Joyfully tuned, and light-strewn instrumental;

For, the Lovers, likened to celestial children,

Delighted in even the simplest of flower pistils,

As they felt the flow a running,

From the heights now sunning,

In the merriment of, they, the Maiden and the Minstrel;

Songs did leap,

With the lightness of leaves,

And the Maiden did not clutch,

For it was but the lightest touch,

That wove such wonders into woodland wreathes;

And She did not bereave

If She lost sight of such enlightened glee,

For She saw, in ever-continuing awe,

That it grew again and again,

As the Springtime sweetly weaves;

And throughout

The days and nights, in the wake of such delight,

(As had spurned the Lovers to sow their wild oats!)

So many creations, arose in elation,

Too many to name or even note;

And certainly in joy, they did laugh and look,

But in their glee, they did not gloat,

For they were too humbled by the world that tumbled,

Flowing freely beyond the banks of bordered moats;

A glowing bridge flowed throughout the Nether,

In constellations, gracefully shining bright,

Levitating dancers, like sparkling flying kites,

Into the theatre of the Moonlit heights;

And as many a song danced into the night,

The tunes were runed in all things right,

As brightening bands of fire,

Cast starlit silhouettes, far from diminutive,

Across the span of an endless night;

All things morphed amidst such a sense of warmth

That tempered the impending chill and bite,

As the Spring times' rhyme became Autumn blind,

To the glow of next Summers' greening rites;

Until such sensous leavings, and impressions ablaze,

(Within the heat of such luminous light)

Finally dwindled down to embers

Cindering in the calm December,

Of our own internal sublime delights...

Joshua Fuller

2009-04-16T11:32:02.64