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The Joy



janine canan




Along the hills of your body
I rooted in the fragrant earth.

Stretching my blossoming arms,
I heaved with offerings.

I was a peach dripping gold,
and you drank me.

I was a comet that tumbled
across your moonlit valley.

I was a cry in the forest,
that pierced your windy heart.

I was a woolly lamb in your pen,
who was stripped by the shearing night.

Listen! In the bleeding womb of life
there are rhythms that can never be broken....



Scars Publications


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