Day 507: Deluge

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∴

look and see
how cool relieves
and blows in like mockery
after all that heat.

my skin still pricks
with remembrance.

it is not within
this new and temperate day
that i, forgetful,
dillusionally say,

“the storm?
it never came.”

 

for in that humid
and wind whipped place,
the shape of me
was forever changed
by the natural beating
of hurricane rain.

 

it came as death.

it came as life.

as one begets the other;

 

again and again,
in torrential resurrections
like the spinning
of spirited cyclones
on the sea.

 

this sea of self
that glassy stands
as though to invite
and welcome,

but deep and deep
and buried sands
do hold her pearls
for ransom.

 

the wealth of which
is haveble
if first we forego our strengths

and welcome
current,
capable,

who dousing,
drowning,
dolling,
rolling,

brings us deep
to find.

∴

 

 

 

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