For His selenium

Sometimes in the soft rain
I sit and watch the beads
Run off her planes and
sometimes I make the
beads well up

whatever I do
her eyes follow me .
like a doe waiting
That rain cascading
off her shoulders
off her raven locks
off her eyes deep as midnight falls

all the colours mixing
and merging
That symphony
rising
as I work
My hands moving in trails
across that canvas I have

Alone and together wrapt
entwined and ever taken
Taken again and Yet again.

Once more with feeling
He asked, she gave her
whole and then He
rose in the falling misty rain
a strident call
Out in the drowning clouds
Bayed His Wants and made
His marks as He would

Needs he that canvas ever before him
she will never
leave till he says Yes
and he
will not as
she feeds him
like no other.

And still she does, far
north she came for Him
she was his need
Answered in runnels, grooves
He made of their song
in her, marked her His
Evermore