Waves of Heaven By Frank Coughlin April 2011
In this poem, we will make love
First we make contact
Meeting as sea does to shore
Forget all lies said before
Skipping ahead to the good part
Between both arms and satin sheets
A parade of waves, the water of my words
She is the shore, my beach and more
Touch becomes key, is it possible to be touched and not to touch back
or is touch something that happens both ways always
Beach touches sea, wave after wave,
We are driven blind in our effort to see
what is constant - we give it a name
we call it sensuality - I call it being aware
of your touch, of my touch, of where the borders blur
a place where sea is not sea, beach is not beach
this sandy water solution where he merges with she
we both allow in the same sense nature allows water to touch the land
Now skipping to best part - the giving part
To give one must release
the tide release water, pools form
the beach releases, we call that erosion
Today's giving features a strong release
an opening up - she and he become we
and we becomes weeeeeeee as the universe
becomes our discovery
we fly - no longer beach and sea - we are
legless beings of pure being riding the waves of heaven
I fly higher, she rides longer
there is bliss until the last part
the part where we pretend we are separate again
Even the largest oldest ocean touches continent
Yin and Yang
We pretend our separation exists because everyone does
We smoke our cigarette and dress
We walk our ways back to that other thing we call life
We do not to consider what we have lost and what we have gained
I have her in me now and she has me
The waves of heaven do not cease
They rise and crest and fall away and then begin again
This poem is not about sex. And yet it could be. It is about two people and it is about two forces - female and male - the giving and receiving that make up a wave. At least, I think it is about that.
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