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Love in a Handful of Dust: woman, i love
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woman, i love

woman, i love

by kirk ramdath

i
goddess
i am guilty of too much worship
i devour your remnants,
kiss the dust where your feet have loved the earth
my life is meditation
continuous contemplation
of the sweetest mantra —
your name
divine word
the sound escapes my lips
with the pleasure of a kiss
from your lips
lush vibration
two syllables more sacred than om
the sound of the sun
the first syllable, the inexorable wait
till the second syllable —
the sound of ascent
the upward movement that uplifts my soul
aural honey as sweet
as the sound of your voice
in close whispers
that come later —
but at first, i know only your name
and your sweet gypsy eyes
and the flirting between us
like we will be lovers
until i tell you what you already know
what extravagance
what exquisite pleasure
to love you
and to tell you
is enough to shatter
the timbres of my voice
into a honeycomb
but you do more than listen
you fall into my arms
your skin warms this brown soil
thaws the thick frost
cracks the ice to make the rivers run
you make springtime come
your love is not heat
your love is fire
your sacred body
frees me —
the sweetness
is being inside you
when you come
and you come
like an angel

ii
waves wash ashore
at wickaninnish beach
seagulls land on the beach
bearing a knowing countenance
weary of flight, but resolute
make birds of thoughts
they fly away
yearn for a goddess inside the mind
the waking heart cannot find her love —
ocean motion moves us
measured   spaces   apart
saltwater dissolves the knotted cord
seagulls crumble into the sand
stripped of words and stripped of clothes,
we walk naked into water’s embrace
submergence and then
emergence from the water’s grasp
i see you for the first time
not a goddess, worthy of worship
but a woman, worthy of love
what need have i
to add divinity
to perfection
a goddess is not better than a woman
worship is not better than love

woman, i love
- 21 -
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