This is the story of getting to the island

This is the story of getting to the island
This is the story of longing
This is the poem of an image of our hands touching
The boat roars to the shore of the heart of the world,
a Rock so big it can be called the Mother of all Earths.
I am in that boat
been sailing on the waves of my intimates desires for so long
It seems like lifetimes of being away,
of trying to get to the island
I am almost there
Now
and
Now
I can taste the salt air and smell the fragrance of a Heart so Big and
so pure . . . that it compels me to leave behind my companions of desire
To live a life of true Attraction on the island
On the island . . . the Naturals sing of
your play
And I am so ready
So Ready
To Play with You
The Heart of hearts
The Heart I have always know to be my Very Own
I’m coming
This is the story of getting to the island
This is the story of my longing
This is the poem of our hands and bodies touching.