Conversion

At the bottom of a hidden canyon,
green sings    rocks grin
under skins of lichen.

I come alive again
as if inside
a beautiful woman

whose hazel eyes shimmer

like the wind, like tendrils

of sage..

Our every cell dances
waterfalls of lust
and godliness

as we linger

in quiet,

listening for cougar
while dusk quickens,

kissing great boulders

in a torrential
unplanned 

conversion.