Like strawberries in November

You break like a spring morning and about me -
my body, my core, like any ground of living dreams.

We blend glow and grain, dew and thirst, to this
intrinsic wakefulness with no boundaries between
your touch and my fecundity.

Yes, we grow into one another
then grow as one –
yet, with no predictability, no submission
to season or, indeed, dimension…

This would be why, with all the unexpectedness
of a prodigy, we become visible, before
the incredulous, as would a strawberry patch;

Actually bursting with fruit, scarlet, ripe and sweet -
although leaves, falling about us, tell those who swear
by time but not the pulp, the taste of awe…

…that nights are now longer and dreams
much too short, mornings should be frosty and
the ground too hard – for it is November
and winter is near.

© 2007 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®

In our garden, strawberries are actually growing, although it is November. This reminded me of the unlimited, prodigious possibilities of love, when it grows unbound – and us, boundless, with it – with no submission to… season or dimension, from a ground of living dreams…