A Poem: Naked Love

In this fresh newness of morning
love appears nakedly.
The windows wiped from condensation,
the damp garden,
their dew-tipped flower buds pointing up.
The red maple’s dress fallen,
her autumn skirts now at her feet.

What chance have we against
naked love.
Against the sky, soft egg-shell blue
above the rinsed earth.
Against the trees,
the sun’s direct darts
turning leaves dark green to light,
highlighted with gold.

In this naked new morning
we rise ourselves,
more confident to risk exposure.
To accept our folds and creases,
to see our own skin
as sun-anointed,
dew kissed, beloved of someone,
even if only ourselves.

And the sheets become robes
for parading in,
as kings and queens
of our earthly kingdom,
the morning air for dancing in.

Yes, how morning does this,
all naked and glowing,
laid out as love
upon the garden’s bed.
Reaching up to us.
willing supplicants,
in love with love.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
May 2022

6 thoughts on “A Poem: Naked Love”

  1. Smiling. Particularly loved: The red maple’s dress fallen, her autumn skirts now at her feet. (although I’d probably shorten it to “autumn skirts at her feet” for the music of the lines) do you mind if I make comments like that? Happy not to. and willing supplicants, in love with love. so true, so gorgeous! with love, Amrita

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  2. This is so vividly true that I am stunned by its reality before my own eyes, living in a thick forest. Your gift for expressing both the inner and outer realities is profound…thank you.

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