the sun appeared suddely in a gray
sky and rain continued. the shaft of light
broke through the trees to land where a dead log lay-
ing its soul to the ground slowly in sight
of weeds was praying to the rain. it is
a holy place. rain collected inside
to form a small world for a genesis
of smaller lives. the world cares for outside
appearances. even death is alive
within this sunlit shower. there is not
much time before the mystical lives are
destroyed by a wandering cloud. they taught
the reasons on paper, vernacular
of trees. but wisdom is here first derived.
-------- An excerpt from A Chorus of Voices
by Kurt Messick
Dry Bones Press, February 2003
Bookmarks
Share
Print
Save