When You Come Home

when you come home
as the sun balances this deep spin
of air from dark earth to darker star
and back again

when you come home
as the horizon rides its slow silence
between separate tongues
like fire over the waters

then walk,
and you shall find me,
lips turned into oil,
whispering of trees and rivers

then place into my breath
those sweet-leaved songs to swallow
whose succulence like sponge
designs its soft delight
around our eyes

for only then
when you lay down your voice
on the bed of nature
will my need become yours,

and belonging to the other
whose elseworld bejewels us
will night unwrap a blazing new opening
in one more of several

forevers

 

© J. Celan Smith