Monday, April 06, 2009

Opal Rain.

The rain drenches the world in diamond colors,
red, opal, pink, pale green. The colors graze on
water lily pads, shelter things unseen, destiny
without reason, a sky without a name.
I hold you close, like there’s no tomorrow,
I hold you in my heart like words-a thumb,
a fist, a fingerprint, a beam from someone’s flashlight.

The river knows nothing, speaks nothing of rivers;
it shakes and shudders in times long lost.
The black cat creeps on its four paws, to a spot
below the river Nile, drops on all fours, and
evaporates rapidly into thinning air.

I am not light, nor color, nor tears,
the light is not green, I am not opal.
I am multi-colored, I see myself in smoky mirrors
spread out before me like cropped pollen.
It is me, I am myself, I crawl inside myself, and dwell,
hoping to rest awhile. No clocks tick here.
The spiders have spun silky spinning webs,
they are all spun out; shadows echo in spurts of gray.

I know not colors, they are not words I speak.
Light follows through, reasons unheard.
Unspoken, thoughts, dream of ‘morrow.
Forever and after,
I dream of home.

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