Thursday, June 18, 2009

Turning Stones

A windy day 
Brings a sense of new direction
Of letting go —
Relax of tension

Leaves are pinwheels on their branches
Twisting off some fall to water
To sail along in swirling dances
Till some settle on a stone
To decorate with their dried bones

Bones and bones, their dried bones

The shifting waters of the stream
Speak ceaselessly of living dreams
Secrets someone needs to seek
Distant lines to cross and keep

Waterfall and tumbling stone
All writing on the Earth
Of home

No comments:

Post a Comment