Quietly the noise arrives
surrounding me
above, behind and below.
Slowly it moves without warning and gently
wraps its arms around me.
Although unseen and unknown, I recognize its face.
My heart welcomes the visitor
and without hesitation my spirit drinks
replenishing my soul.
Forever leaving its imprint, it flies away.
Tag Archives: nature
East Coast Sunrise
The sea-fragrant air insinuates itself into your mind,
Wrapping itself around your waking dreams like a warm blanket,
Then gently touches your eyelids, your mouth, your body;
A lover’s caress, to bring you out of sleep.
Outside, foam-flecked waves rear snowy heads
The descend, emptying their essence onto the warm, waiting sand.
Undisturbed by the bustle of wind-blown clouds
The sun begins its daily trek across the sky.
You open sleepy eyes to a vibrant, verdant landscape bathed in beauty:
The chalky crests of nearby hills search out the heavens
While the springy mat of green grape-leaves invites your feet.
A taste of Eden.
Rain
English rain
Is not like Caribbean rain
Each pointed drop
Drills through the remnants of the warmth
You wrapped inside you
When you left home.
Just enough for discomfort
But without the honesty
To drench you.
Caribbean rain
Does not pretend
It wets you through and through
Leaving you soaked and annoyed
Yet knowing the sun’s not far behind
While in England
More grey days
With bullet rain
Wait to follow
The one that’s
Pissing down
Pissing about
Pissing you
Off.
(Originally published on RITRO)
Dancing Still
One moment you were on your sagging porch
cavorting to the sturm und drang of an August
strangler. Cymbals clanged and thunder clapped,
telling us it would be your final performance.
Telling you? Rain! you sang with all the voice
you had left. Rain!! God, but I love
a good storm. Lightning pale and lightning
thin, light as the wisps of mist-silvered hair
framing your leukemia ravaged face,
you electrified. Ravished coal sky ogled
you through a net of catch-as-can-patched
screen, only light an eak from your kitchen
and the pyrotechnic glow that was you.
IS, this rain whispers, then taps in Morse code.
No more florist daffodils and horrid pink
satin. Still laughing, still shining, still a star….
Reluctant to go in, I jump in a puddle,
let water stream until thunder applauds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{First Prize, Dan Sullivan Memorial Contest, 2007}