june-1-to-june-12_-2011-043

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he speaks, petals blow in the wind,

land in her hands. she holds them

and her heart speaks the language of flowers.

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what was it He blew this direction?

what softness did He bring?

what stilled the hearts of creatures?

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under the siege of words

pains unleashed from centuries

the soul, lashed with red

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bottled tears gleam in sunlight

a gaze speaks a thousand words–

releasing hidden torrent

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he sings a melody, and walks in the midst

of a pine forest; alone, he walks—

who sings with you?

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do the trees bend and join your song?

does the river thirst and beg you to drink?

he stands in waters — rushing and cool

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the sun beats; he sleeps

he awakens with chest open–

his rib is missing. she can breathe.

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words cannot be spoken now,

language is that of the leaves and

petals that blow in the wind.

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