Poetry
Rain, you whisper . . .
Rain, you say in that terse note, as
The skies explode in cheerful fury.
Brishti . . . that is the rainmaker in
You marvelling at the searing, soaring
Light piercing the clouds pregnant
With possibilities. And then silence takes over. Does it,
Though? For across the wooded valleys
Shrouded in the silvery veil come the
Songs that heave and rise in your soul.
In the springtime glow of your cheeks,
Melody finds its way to the autumnal
Light of your eyes. Rain, you say again, stepping out into
It to weave your way into dance. Grace
And poise become you in full measure
As your song rises through the mist, rushing
Past the stars in its odyssey to the timeless.
You are a goddess in pursuit of new creation.
A cave dweller loves you on earth. For the passion of woman rises to the
Fullness of force in you, as the earth's core
Heats up in the frenzy of new growth. Rain
Cascades down your cheeks, kisses that gem
Of a dimple on the way and makes of your
Neck a sylvan stream. Rain, you whisper in the sweetness of your
Dreams. A distant window creaks open. A song in the wind speaks of cherry blossoms, of the poetry in your eyes.
The skies explode in cheerful fury.
Brishti . . . that is the rainmaker in
You marvelling at the searing, soaring
Light piercing the clouds pregnant
With possibilities. And then silence takes over. Does it,
Though? For across the wooded valleys
Shrouded in the silvery veil come the
Songs that heave and rise in your soul.
In the springtime glow of your cheeks,
Melody finds its way to the autumnal
Light of your eyes. Rain, you say again, stepping out into
It to weave your way into dance. Grace
And poise become you in full measure
As your song rises through the mist, rushing
Past the stars in its odyssey to the timeless.
You are a goddess in pursuit of new creation.
A cave dweller loves you on earth. For the passion of woman rises to the
Fullness of force in you, as the earth's core
Heats up in the frenzy of new growth. Rain
Cascades down your cheeks, kisses that gem
Of a dimple on the way and makes of your
Neck a sylvan stream. Rain, you whisper in the sweetness of your
Dreams. A distant window creaks open. A song in the wind speaks of cherry blossoms, of the poetry in your eyes.
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