Falling

I do not fall in love

easily. I’m selective

as the songbird in plentiful summer

But I do fall in love

intensively. I’m dramatic

as a sweltering sunset plunging

its neon heart into the sea

in hemispheric displays of passion

streaking colors of broken heat

across the breathing sky

Fast as the falling sun I fall

below the horizon and drown

in a love sickness feverish

as Chaucerian courtship

I swoon and love swoons before me a desert mirage in wavy heat

where moons swallow the night and loons laugh at my lunacy

I do not fall in love

randomly. But I do

fall in love surprisingly

often. Everyday

I fall in love

and when I fall in love

I find myself surprised

at how in love I am

and how surprised I am

that still I’m falling.

How far does the sun fall

when it falls into the sea?

How deep can the sea possibly be

that still I find myself falling?

One night

long ago

I dreamed that I was falling

through the constellations

falling through the stars

falling through space

falling freely

falling down and down

ecstatically

for infinity

in safety

I do not need to feel I’m falling dangerously

The sun always rises no matter how far it falls

and I do not fall in love

intentionally, but am drawn

energetically

to the body's song

the heart's long sigh

shine and depth of eyes

all the magnetism that makes stars collide

and suns plunge into the sea

pulses in my heart

and pulls me into love

and everyday I’m falling

--Diana Tigerlily