16.3.12

When It Rains

Eyes open, I eat the vision:
poets and philosophers alike
grasped the natural
and called it the numinous.
Cloud gray, pine green, dead leaves.
The rain falls on lake, on soil the same,
One for the music, one for the life.
In this moment, I am wealthy,
enriched by the immanent present
and the soul kiss of immanent Presence;
tasting color, touching song
knowing I'm alive
without dying to feel it.

No comments:

Post a Comment