Dreams of Rain by Sarah Webb
Hot days beckon clouds
Wishful wistful billowing
Dreams of cool wet rain
Clouds Waking by Paul Causey
Dry parched earth slumbers
Under heavy sun-drenched dreams
Wait for clouds to wake
—Paul Causey
Dreams of Rain
Rain is Coming by Sarah Webb
In hot, dry summer,
memories of spring,
a cooler time,
bringing dreams of rain,
droplets wet and cool,
dripping from hair
washed in an April shower,
droplets heralding the advance
of warm breezes in summer,
drying wet towels wringing with sweat,
parching lips, cracking earth,
heat radiates off the horizon,
wavering in the noon day sun,
cloudless skies,
harboring memories of spring,
a cooler time,
bringing dreams of rain.
—Paul Causey
All that Love…
I never felt unloved by you,
it was there like a shared, sacred
vibration in the air, merged in hugs,
laughter, shared graces.
It’s the outpouring that has washed me
off my stalwart stance, feeling both
its surge and undertow as I try to
catch the next wave of change
coming in, and wanting to ride the crest.
I know I am not in control of this
condition. Instead, I exercise beliefs
not challenged before, to bear witness
to who I truly am, and this condition
is not me. I affirm me and let the
condition die off, as it will.
I do crave your riding this wave with
me. My position is different than that
we’ve been conditioned to feel & express
in this world.
Will you walk with me?
—Martha Koock Ward
At the Kitchen Table…
Eating of the last sweet bite, pushing back from
the kitchen table’s edge and further from temptation,
a glowing satisfaction emanated from us
and coalesced in a field of endless unknowing
and nearly silly pleasure at just being in each
others company.
A pure reckoning of trusting kinship, genuine care and good humor.
It’s never really been tested from my recollection
A reflection of our mother’s love of harmonies,
father’s pleasing tenor voice and a passel of children.
We sang together a lot through the ‘40s to the ‘60s
– thereafter we didn’t
being far flung, we were less in tune. Even in our dis-
agreements we flounder in laughter and sidebar comments
and distract with other stories.
When my eldest sister died, we wrapped our
sorrow within our hearts. So little spoken of – what would
we have done differently if we’d known?
This year we’ve come nearer to pronouncing death’s name,
once more, but no nearer to wanting to talk about our
own deaths or the death of one that we care about, deeply.
Now brother has died, unexpectedly, sharing poems up to the last.
May rich and tender conversations make it to our table.
It is where Life’s terrible victory, living, can be celebrated.
—Martha Koock Ward
We Got Your Test Results…
“Yes, we got your test results, and it
appears your abdominal cavity is filled
with shoreless seeds and stardust”.
Is this normal, Doc?
It felt like I’d had a solar-lunar eruption?
It’s a normal component of an unusual life form.
On rare occasions, we have seen examples,
it is true. That was when we have conducted autopsies
on aliens, he responded
Oh aliens!? Well! Well! What are you telling
me, Doc?
Despite your otherwise normal, it appears
somewhere in your maternal lineage, alien
DNA was dilly-dallying with your maternal co-creator.
It’s unusual and fortunate that you have
lived a long-normal-human lifetime.
Is there there something that can be done? I asked
My recommendation is to dance nightly by the light of
the moon. There’s a chance the seeds may take root and
the dust may coalesce into your own rising star.
—Martha Koock Ward
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)