This force

[nickbarnes]

Something in the air, the moist
and yielding opening earth, she sighs,
she stirs awake, cries out for boist'
rous love. The fresh shoots rise
and thrust into the lover's rays,
the buds engorge, the sap flows
rich with winter's stores, the ways
that wordless timeless lust knows
well. Before the saint, before
all saints, before the word, this vast
eternal love, this force more
powerful than death, this fast
yet slow dance drives us all,
brings us to life, to shine,
to seek, to find, to call,
to ask you, be my valentine.