That Kind Of Love

I.

she was a deep cup in the center
of a luscious lily
waiting for humming
bird
to love her right to the core

her purity pulsing to be released
by that kind of love

shivering curl of leafy veils ready to fall
down to soil pursing its brown lips
to have what is left

earth raising skin to hold her,
own her, make her new
because of her charity
to wind and waves of heat
that would have her broken

not that kind of rough love
does she deserve

no matter that her brush with lust
might curl her petals
and leave her stained by the touch

II.

a stuffed toy,
spilling out her filling
because she has been clung to
so hard for her comfort

that kind of love

asking for nothing but a child’s hand
in darkest of nights

a curl of a child against birthing,
a breast, a leg

satin edging on favorite blanket
caressing a sleeping cheek

that kind of love

III.

home bread, pies, a light in a window
on moonless night, a surge of calm
after a raging sea-sail
a welcoming wave that pulls back
to a known shore

she is that kind of love


IV.

kissing cusp of lovemaking
drawing Oneness in
like suck of strange sunshine slant
into sierra’s deep canyons

a firefly’s strobing beacon, gone out,
but building pulse to spark its invitation
once again

that kind of love


V.

an open gate, a quick note,
a hum from stone, a miracle
and mystery for a leper, or burn victim,
or hard-heart that she mends
with quick stitches and deft hand
to bring back glory

that kind of love

VI.

you cannot earn it,
nor is it for sale;
she owns this kind of love,
you must find your own way to
that kind of love