The ancients say there is a river
a river red and made of blood,
a river that flows inside the body
pumped through a cavernous organ
we have come to call the heart ~
This is the Cavern where love lives.
In and out, the great river flows
watering all its tiny capillaries
feeding every speck it finds.
Into tributaries, brooks and streams . . .
the rivulets of life, it rushes,
nourishing the soil of our flesh
our mountains of calcified bone ~
and the sympathetic organs
that kindly keep time
even as we sleep ~ watering, watering
this wondrous clay we are made of.
Joanne Cucinello 2010
(Artwork:Photobucket.com/bryansamdub)
