Spring Fires

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The clouds in the east

are only a false promise of rain today,

but the jasmine has begun to bloom outside my door,

and above, the intense pale green

of emerging leaves graces the tree.

There is a hint of grass smoke

from the spring fires burning in the hills,

and an unseen wren is singing a sweet song,

“Where is love, where is love – surely not far away”,

waiting for the drought to end.

 

5/19/17

Small Storm

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A small storm rages in the dead of night

Not tearing at the limbs of trees in the darkness

Not raging in the swirling sky above

But within these compound walls

Of stone and skin

In a windowless room

Unseen Un-named uncategorized

An unknown tumult

In a wordless dream

In an unbound stream

I wrap my spindly arms about these howling winds

And bow deep into the spiral eye to see

The quiet peace The invisible heart

In the loving protection of your outstretched fingers

In your open hand

Before the sun has risen.

 

5/28/17