Rock In A Brook Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Rock rooted
in earth's mantle,
a shell of love,
sinking roots

through the clay
of a dry day,
a garden waving

my departure knocking
at every door.

Knocking at your
closed forehead, flipping
out no window
to peek through
your jagged cocoon,

a bump with keys
to every door
to your closed-in house.

(ii)

Rock of a folded
chunk of a moss-bearded age
sitting on the edge
of spiky thorns and horns,

you only plant yourself
deep down into a crooning seat.

Perched on a slab
of gabbro raised
from the depths of earth,

a volcanic smoldering fire
of our love
yet to explode

into a bumblebee hue
with a buzzing bee,

you spin your body
on glass wings
oozing from a blazing stroke
and gluey fondle

in an emerald garden
flanked by shamrock
palisades.

(iii)

Rook in the middle
of a brook
racing downhill, as you stay
in the hands


Bodies of water
race down,
slithering around
your tree-branched shoulders,

as I sit on you, this rock
of feathers
and ashes of me

flowing with a stream
hurling off its waters

on a man
floating on a river of sorrows,

his only arrows
hurled off at an elephant
tumbling on me.

(iv)

Rock in the middle
of a brook
babbling with warblers,

as you flip out
your tails
down a valley of marsh

glowing with a water lily
holding out love
in a blue flame heating up
the sky of our hug,

as I leave you
planted into your deep slab,

a floor carrying waters
to a far-flung garden burning
with you and me,

as I leave you
to grow your towering love
rooted in your stillness.

Watching every current
flow off by you,
as you sink silvery hands
into our brook of love.