You are a rainstorm
After a blistering heatwave
The drops that tell me
I am not forgotten.
You are the medicine
That washes my leaves
Of summer’s dust
And fills my cells with life.
My roots relax in your
Rainbow Promise
Of our earth’s certain turning
And a blessed season’s change.
i’ve hidden away in cavernous shadows
for so long
that as i coax myself into
myself
and we breathe together
between homecoming tears and the
golden arms of ascension
it feels
like
i’m the first fish to crawl above
water, taking
a great gasp of pure
evolution
Give me the faith of seeds in winter
Lend me the strength of the earth’s molten core
Help me to trust that your good rains down
And fills my spirit with a deep reservoir
I’ll follow you
into the forest of mist
Where our imaginations
will inhale low-hanging clouds
And become full
with life-giving dew.
The doorway of my heart
Opens to forgiveness.
In my humanity,
I rest.
Witnessing storm clouds
Bathed by their rain
An end to stagnation
Carries opportunities for change
Surrender to the beauty of the Great Unknown
For Truth never thrives in a life outgrown
A familiar face, long and narrow, levitates in the corner between tiles. Thin legs and arms drawn close, protective of her slender body. I’ve seen her here for weeks now, shielded her from downpour, and guided her to safety.
I bend to pump soap into my wet, warm hand. With my face nearer hers, I say, “hello, dear,” because she’s waving her arm at me. I reach my index finger to her and she stops waving to reach back to me. For a moment, she and I are like God and man on Michelangelo’s ceiling.
The next day, I look but cannot find her familiar face.
Waning moon ramblings
Heart spilling forth
Expression unboxing
Bubbles in overflow
Dislodging emotion
Unbottled in time
To ether returned
From ether derived.
Seeking quiet stillness
Dormant life paused
Inhaling sacred silence
Space between actions and words.
Exhaling what cannot be held
Surrendered to journey within
To the depths, the truest core
Brought forth in time for Spring.
I appear at her door with footsteps speaking homesick words
And pour world-weary troubles into her waves.
Longing for innocent longing.
She sings to me, just as she used to —
Soothing indifference, pulling my words into her crashing whirlpool,
Sweeping them out with her undertow
Tumbling and polishing them with salt and sand.
And in the space of my empty wordlessness —
She keeps my polished rock words and gives me her song.
glamsient.me 