the air was blue
and golden-
the wind was blowing through the open doors,
birds follow the currents and get trapped,
caught in the web of music, batting against the high ceilings..
but today it’s only the paper cut-outs, making sounds
like the moths do when they can’t find their way to a light.
the springtime has undeniably arrived,
bearing witness to its own burgeoning effulgence
in the snow-white and heady purple japanese magnolias
which are so magnificent this time of year..
light blossoms on bare black branches.
the sugar scent in the air, wet with ozone..
rain dripping steadily from boughs of mountain laurel,
and all around me burning green, green…
life has come again, and change in its turnings
ever-present, the first tendrils extend into an unknown future-
new patterns resolve themselves, the delicate ration of nature
each transformation in sequence; a set, a system, a spiral.
re-train every fibre of self into a new form-
this can be done by sheer force of will,
and in it, there is room for grace.
“dualities perhaps would fascinate her, glimpsed reflections, coincidences of course.”