I’m a simple man
scared terribly 
by the ascendance I feel
through & all about me.
In the echoing crescendo 
herald by the buds
of the stretching spring tree,
in the reply from the
scuttling squirrel 
gathering acorns, pausing,
looking through me,
in the eyes of another 
who holds mine in momentary matrimony,
rather then the usual,
a demonstration a performance,
an assertion of ones own dominance. 
Sometimes it becomes so shockingly clear
that it can’t but cause
a stirring disturbance in me.
A need for coming back,
a need for returning from that place 
whispered of in our dreams. 
I huddle inside my shelter,
a gift so long condemned
as the original sin,
and do as instructed
by the ego within.