7 Ik
White Resonant Wind
I hear a Call
From the eastern Gate---
From Roses on the Vine
Lightning flashes Foot to Head
Settling in the Belly---
A slow Burn of wild Desire
I feel a Call
Lifting me from the Desert
Out of Drought into cool Mist---
Gone the dry Brush
Gone the burning Sun
Cool Breezes fly through me
I know this Call---
I’ve heard it before---
Before Locusts ate my Passion
From an Oasis
Fresh Water flows---
My Thirst is sated, my Hunger gone.
©Kleomichele Leeds
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