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.
The air —
Laden with care —
With guilts, not graces,
With long-gone places,
With regrets, what-ifs,
With laundry lists.
And then —
A gust of wind —
The Spirit comes
And speaks in tongues,
The lightning strikes —
And thunder rumbles —
The tension crumbles.
Then sweet release
Of pent-up rain —
God comes again.
His tender care
Dispels all fear.
All will be well,
All will be well.
Ah, the shade, on sultry day,
And wisp of wind against your skin.
Thank you, magnolia.
Thank you, styraciflua,
For braving winter wind and cold
‘Til summer — leafy arms unfold.
And water from faucet,
With ice cubes, too,
Or lemonade, or brown iced tea,
Down the throat, deliciously.
Without the heat, ‘twould be no pleasure,
Without the heat, we could not measure,
Blessed relief, after the heat.
Of frosty foam
And winter white.
Wind whips at your face;
Pull your hat on tight.
Weak heat of the sun,
But still so bright.
Something suddenly moves;
Now seagulls take flight.
The world is alive;
Let us walk in the light.
(At least in the northern hemisphere!)
The winter has passed.
On many days we see the sun –
Aft’ freezing rain,
Aft’ icy wind,
Our hearts can open up again.
No longer do I cringe
Against the wind.
Not much fasting now –
Not much bleakness now –
With color is our world endowed.
The warmth of the sun –
Let hearts be open to it now.
Beyond the hills,
I sense the ocean,
Fish frolic in rolling waves,
Sun glances off glassy waters,
Seagulls wheel recklessly in cyan skies.
How do the mermaids feel?
Are they free as the wind,
Though beneath it?
Deep, deep down,
There are no waves –
Maybe God is like that –
Unruffled by the world
Above / below Him.
Storm’s a comin’
Wind’s a whippin’
Air is chillin’
Leaves a blowin’
Wind’s a moanin’
Tree branches groanin’
Life’s a flowin’
People are growin’
I’ll make you a garden,
In which you can tread
On green things that aromas send.
In which you’ll find refreshing shade
Amidst life’s burdens heavy laid.
You’ll see abundant birds and bees,
And squirrels skittering up the trees.
The flowers glorious will be there,
Their fragrance hanging in the air.
The fruits and vegetables will grow —
Might be a few weeds; I don’t know.
There’ll be a bench where you can sit,
And rest your weary bones a bit.
The wind will rustle through your hair;
Accept its presence, if you dare.
You’ll take deep breaths and drink the air —
Finding yourself, you’ll have no care.