Love Song in April

We do so love with unremembered hours

of warmth and safety in the mothered bath

where our first need for loving grew from seed -

of kind hands on our bodies, of lost flowers

leaning against a long-forgotten path;

we do so love, not ever knowing whence

our passion gathers its beneficence

and reservoirs its tenderness and tears:

I know not what I bring you, save it rears

itself from caverned roots proudly this spring

and spreads its arms for destined blossoming.