Love poem

Your hands upon the strings of your magical voice 
might cause the grass to flower 

the crows to bring gifts

hummingbirds to trace notes in the sky with their wings

I can see the wind in your eyes 

your fingers move with the eagle 

soaring 

finding the invisible 

parts of air 

below you  

pulse of the hot earth 

matches my heartbeat 

with your rhythms 

Together we are the hunters  

of the vanishing yellow birds 

of the long-tusked elephants 

to gather them together in words 

and sounds  

before reckless tides sweep them away 

Together we will not be myth 

but truth  

not promise 

but real as the shuddering leaves  

of the midday winds

those winds of July becoming August

here in the small house of big dreams