Not in the turbulence of contained fire
Rapacious to rake a green forest
Smoldering in my heart
Or on a mountain of solitude
Not in the quaint desire,
To hold multiple moons in my palms
Forcing oceans to drape me with waves
Or in the fear of being a dead worm
Caught in the beak of a wild bird
But know, I sought you in inconsequential matter
Like breathing every moment
Urge of thirst for water
Need of sleep when the night fell
Or turning around
When your name was called
See, it was a wind that brushed aside
Layers of soil within me
Exposing a buried, dormant seed,
Feigning dead, breathing clandestinely
An existence within my existence
Mine but not mine.
That’s when I started watering you.
