Ode to the Golden Birch

“Come” she whispers, as you wander among the turkey trails in soft spring snow.

“Press your body here, against mine.”

Feel her life blood rising, coursing, flowing, throbbing.

Her golden skin smooth and glowing- like the finest gown of silk.

Peeling away,  revealing her eternal patience, 

Giving of her body to moss and lichen.

Caress her this way- hand to skin, full body embrace.

Let her fill you with sensual pleasure- sweet sap running from branch to lip- a sweet kiss.

Shining goddess of the forest- glowing in the sun, sparkling in the moon glow.

Asking you to root in the muddy earth,

Asking you to open to the serpent kundalini

Rising upward- awakening

That sacred center of yearning and creation.

Sleeping in the forest- through the cold winter night- one eye open-

Beackoning you.  “Come, press your body here, against mine.”