it drips from my fingers like candle wax
sears through my inhibitions
it shocks me into complete awareness
and leaves the inner child sleeping
it streams through my conscious thoughts
sweeping away the dust and broken fragments
It leaves remnants of flower-scents
All throughout my essence
Lingering in the recesses of unfinished fantasies
Fulfilling the need
It pollinates my dormant seeds
And untangles the choke-weed constraints of society
Bees make the sweetest honey
from the droplets in my clover
Fertile as the Earth is
I do not call her Mother
Virile strong and dominant
Nature is my lover...