Prose and Poesy


Mist rises
So the poets say
But I know it falls
The gentlest of rains

The cloud become
a fraction more substantial.
And thus
each minuscule drop

falls slowly to the earth
to fulfill the need
of the multitude.
The creatures of the soil

Too tiny to see,
the myriad cryptozoa
the fungi, the bacteria
Who share the earth’s bounty

Caressing the roots of those
Who welcome the sun’s rays                                                                                                                         Open limbed
Exchanging gifts

The light from the sky
An engine without pistons
No growling roar
But steady pulse of energy

The bounty
Transformed not in cascade,
Or fire, or avalanche
But in simple sweetness

Life’s source a
Melding of water and light
In a silent cauldron
Each day the transformation

The fundament of life
Created not in cataclysm
But as if an unnoticed


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