PomegranatesA golden silence abides
within and beyond all forms
of expression (mind or matter),
a joyous energy so sensuous and fertile
that to speak while in tune
with this mysterious frequency
would cause pomegranates bursting with ripeness
to fall from your lips.
But a wordless prayer invokes brilliant shafts of light
illuminating the secret splendor of the mundane,
even the luscious red arils of your quivering heart.
Between and behind its beats,
the silence grows,
a golden tree bearing heavy scarlet fruit.
Rain DanceNothing compares to the baptismal
of a thundering Midwestern storm.
Fat raindrops explode against my skin,
the primal blessing of heaven.
Wind whips around me
in frantic ribbons, calling me to dance
while jagged peaks of lightning frolic
around me, flashing electric and
terrifying from the clouds.
In this moment, I am alive
from the top of my head
to the tips of my toes,
jubilant, drenched, frightened and fearless.