Réjouissance

Let the water do the talking 

let the white wave tips 

curl over our bodies

let the sun and the wind

extend their fingertips 

for the first caress

and let us lie down with life

in the bower of the garden 

where the gardenias blossom

the scented air following us

all the way to our pillows

the earth has given us 

the heart chamber to feel

with our flesh 

that we may never be separate 

from the urgency of our blood

from the conversation of our limbs 

under the sun my skin is 

burning gently into gold

and the red in my hair 

is catching fire

today it is so cold 

that the metal of the door handle

cuts my palm with its ice

I do not wish to walk with the dead 

until the sun is higher

but the summer is a step away

just on the other side of the wall 

ready to fountain

ready to fill the beds with flowers

rising like rockets and rejoicing.