I was told
an island
rises to its toes when love is
spoken:
waves mount on clouds
birds turn dolphins singing.
Flowers bedded on
corals spew beads at
sunrise, winging up as
galaxies mutely
winking at words.
When love is
spoken, Earth shifts axis, faces
eyes limpidness had irked,
takes flings nudged out of
madness—shards shooting as if
aimed though swirling—
and breathes:
first, a shroud shields the pain, next,
a rainbow clears those eyes
for birthing.
