I now know from whence the wind does blow
And to where and for why it does drive forth!

‘Tis naught but graced wisps of refined commotion
From the fluttering wings of angels in treetops

Loved ones alighting on branches of berth
Look down from above and quiver in delight

They laugh in the air as the wind they create
And hurl us along in the flow of the Spirit!

…

We countdown to nowhere,
Still-life air to breathe….
Time Traveling in a blank stare

 Seconds, minutes, hours, days,
Creeping and Strutting…
Seasons feign change,
But there is no movement

 What is this cool cruelty?
A smoldering Phoenix?
A rehearsal in annoyance?…

They close about me like a cloak;
Rapturous winds of whim and courage.
Protecting, caressing, coaxing and cooing —
Is it butterfly wings or laughter I hear?

Sage-wise and new-born, they encircle,
Touching my body lightly
As they glide between heaven and earth…
What news do you bring me this day?…

 

I want to stay in this moment,
Can it wait? Stop?

Ethereal sunlight – bands of color
Rippled in reflection on diaphanous waves

Could this be heaven?
A prolonged breath of beauty

I want to stay..
But dissatisfaction distracts from the passing grace

Will we just BE
In a moment that never passes?…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hiding beneath the darkness
Not knowing what you will be
You winter in impatience
Part of a mysterious and green maternity

Movement begins with slowness and purpose
Moisture splashes against your growth
Warmth and Wind both comfort and caress
Strength and vulnerability insist on your friendship

Pushing up and outward, wonder gives way
“A bud, that’s what I am,” you say
Oval and slender, ever elongating
But that is not all…a force within yearns for expression

Once more, the turmoil of mistaken identity
And now a pain, demanding release
Layers of softness suddenly become conscious
A Striving spectrum of vitality and visibility

Then a crack appears, unlocking upwards
Folds of force greet tender light and dew
Warmth beckons the fullness to perfection
Raptured color stands tall and proud

Yet…such short hours of clarity wane
The bright light dims and weakness steals in
“Who am I now?”…