The World Without A Map

You have oceans in your eyes

Sun, moon and all the stars

Are just vague metaphors

Of your face

You hide summer in your arms

Winter in your tears

Autumn in your skin

And spring in your smile

You can build a city on your hips

Buildings, homes, roads

And undiscovered markets

Can never map the vastness of your curves

I get lost in your world

But then I know I won’t

I have a home

Deep in the valley of mountains

My temple of mysterious pounding grounds

Every morning I pray there

And sometimes I climb those holy mountains

Sit quietly on the top

Facing the soft winds

From friendly north

And believe 

God is nearby watching over me