My Kin Are Streaming

12-27-2003, 09:21 AM

Chrysanthemums, bronzy-bell, dew-filled, golden-bowls,
storm-bowing, bent low in spilling morning teardrops onto dream-snow.

The bitter, north wind's brittle skin of wild-tossed plum blossom,
winter flushes, red-crushes sky-petals of sunset's mauve'd awesome.

Against the warp and wail of tens of thousands of streaming friends,
the tear-dropped dream-drop, golden-colored living hymn, ends & begins.

My kin, Winter, colored seismic in arc, in companion's cries sweet-bringing,
calling out from astral fields, starfields ink, our loved ones silent-singing...

"I was happy enough to stay still
inside the pearl inside the shell,

but the hurricane of experience
lashed me out of hiding and made me

a wave moving into shore, saying loudly
the ocean's secret as I went, and then

spent there, I slept like fog against
the cliff, another stillness."*

~*Rumi

LoveAlways, in Loving memory of our Iranian Friends

Mazie

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