Enough

 

We don't have enough words
to say "love,"
so we use our hands.

We don't have enough hands
to do love,
so we use our tears.
We don't have enough tears
to feel love,
so we use our silences.

Not enough amazement
to contain love, so we surrender.
Now the murmur of soft morning rain
has ended.
The shattered sun trembles at the tip
of every fern.
Stones grow soft, moss green.

With less than a song, a musical
question merely, the rosefinch heals us all.
Fragrances of death return
as shades of indigo.
If you understand this, you're thinking
too hard.
Just let the sexual fury in a seed
become the glowing hyacinth.

Clever people seek partners in the market.
All they find are faces in a crowded mirror.
I dance to a throbbing drum
and meet the crazy lover in my chest.
When I open my eyes,
the world is a kiss.