The rain arrives in pebbles
it pools as mercury, gathers
in mud runs in mud
where even the Snake is sunk.
Rain in rivers, torrents
spearheads, watersheds
in echoes within this tent,
gathers moisture in the switchbacks
loosens rainbows, shakes
the ponderosa pine,
drips upon a mariposa lilly.
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In the Quiraing
ReplyDeletean old man sang
the dance of the whichwaythenoo
But the rocks and the mist
held their tryst
in a silence as deep as time.
Where the drip from a rock
to another block rock,
sounds like Thor in his forge.
And the raven wings
roar like his train
In a brain already confused
by the dizzy,
giddying
heights
falling
above and below.