Within the red cliffs
Walk the feet of Shiva
Through the eternities of endless eons
In the sacred smoke of the kiva
Snow-
Flakes falling
Within the perceptive
Eyes
Of the pygmy owl,
Reflecting skies
Where green dragons
Sail over the seas and all the caves
Long gone,
Waves
Washing up along the coast
Where still,
Knives
Gleam
Of thieves
Hiding in the dark,
Ninja lives,
Deceptive
Whiffs –
A spark
Of whispered words,
Clever,
Sly eyes smile.
There is the space
Where
The rainbows
Rest
A while
Before the startling storms that howl
Before the white-throated swift’s nest
High up in the rock
Gathers up the errant wings – lost almost.
All the hills become
Encircled in weaves
Of patterns within the mist
Of gray stone.
Within the rain ahead
Flocks
Of night
Rain, loud,
Bold,
That never cease,
Unerring
In their treks of flight,
Within the black armies of the castled kingdoms,
War drums
Of the cloud.
All is here now,
The bow
Of the lone,
Ghost
Ship cuts across the furrow,
And all falls
Suddenly quiet.
Torrents cease.
Winds let go.
All returns
To within the peace
Of cliffs deep red
As the autumn
Moon
In the forgotten dimensions
Of forever. Soon
Will the wild paws
Of the forest
Lions,
Tiptoe
Again, with grace
In the clear singing of the dawn
With the moon-
Enchanting meadows
Gone,
Now turned to gold,
Held in the entrancing feathers of the sun,
While rags of clouds stream
Onward to the dance.
September 10, 2021
© Sharon St Joan, 2021