POEM: Early Spring Sky

Let it overcast,
The air rife and warm, bear the life
Of moisture and mystery -
I am pleased to let it cradle me.

Let the sun and space of shade repose
Beneath the cool clumpy shadowlands above me,
With windy hands that scatter poplar seed
Aloft like a secret, or a child’s bubbles.

In stifling slow motion, these dervish seeds
Twirl on the axis of hope -
That one day, it will be a sapling,
Soft, alight, free as quiet, as dreams always are.

Let the wind gasp through the afternoon –
These skyward cartoons,
These parade floats that turn the
Pensive day into moody night.

Let me rest in summer’s breathiness.
With a serious death-bed brow, enzymic clouds
Play music that urges sunlight dance
On the ground, it weaves the dimmest charcoal shapes.

Let it overcast, and huff,
Make the gulls linger one moment longer,
So they swoop in languid arcs of flight -
A starched white against the gray amorphous light.

Let the mysterious comes to life,
Coupled within the craters that reside in me,
Where passions pool too deep to speak of
And where everything yearns for freedom.