Somewhere in the universe
There is a sphere
With myriad colors —
Light and dark,
Dryness and wetness,
Mountains and valleys.
On outer spheres,
The people peer inward
At the inmost sphere.
The people are spread
All over the outer spheres,
Some closer, or farther,
From the inmost sphere.
They all describe
The inner sphere differently.
Though they tell the truth
About what they see,
The descriptions sound very different.
Are we talking about the same thing?
The storm predicted was much delayed
Though clouds did threaten, though wind began
Its quiet moaning, tree branches groaning.
We waited, waited – wondering
When heaven’s tensions would bring declension
To weather’s warmth and pleasantness.
When least expected, suddenly
A hurried haste of air and water
Gushed and guttered from the sky.
“It’s like a deluge!” – We take our refuge
‘Neath covered arches, no comfort wanting.
But soon it’s finished, the rain diminished,
The wind decreased, or almost ceased –
The sun appearing.
Now water jewels appear on trees
On branches glinting, our minds imprinting
With dreams of fairy fireflies.
In dead of night, in silent places,
The deer creep out and take their places
For midnight dancing, their footsteps prancing.
They circle round a leafless tree,
For now it’s winter, though they might be
There other times — in summer, maybe.
Soon rabbits join them, an inner ring,
If you have ears, you hear them sing,
The lilting rabbit Hopping Song.
Next squirrels join in; it’s quite a din
To hear their tch-tch, as they grin
And join the creature chorus.
Don’t leave out mice; you must look twice
To see their little bodies quiver —
A dancing river.
So don’t disturb the animal fiesta —
You thought they would be taking siesta —
But to your wonder, you found their frolic.
clarakatalin 