
The sage brush nods her head
In deference to the sun —
Quite —
Juniper branches wave,
Exultant.
Tiny, brave
Plants rustle in delight.
Did the flock
Of goats startle at the ringing
Of the bells of dawn?
The bald eagle,
With downbent beak,
The first of the season
To return,
Sails — her white head held
High,
Sky queen,
Jubilant,
The stars all gone.
Ravens call
Sparkling black in the air
At the spare
Skeleton
Of an eon past – or maybe yet to be.
An urn
Cools in the quick-running stream.
While, off the coast below,
The gill
Of the fish, finned,
Shines in the magic of the rolling sea
Waves fall
And gleam,
Snow-
Tipped in the path of the fierce wind dragon
While Meenakshi looks on
From the shore,
Sea-shelled.
Fish-eyed Meenakshi
Who danced long ago in the sea
With blue dolphins —
She came ashore
Then from the wandering sea
By the coconut palms, in the wind-deep roar,
Whose fronds bend and bow.
No.
No one sees the wind now.
No one has ever seen
The wind,
Yet the wind is there,
All around, everywhere
The living spirit who enlivens
The earth, who brings a confidant
Day; Vayu – God of the wind,
Just as the Holy One,
Who is never seen at all
Anywhere,
Nor ever heard to speak,
Except in the echoing thunder,
Yet, with nothing said,
Gives
Breath to all that lives,
Including the tall
Red
Rock –
Ancient pillars standing,
Mountains,
The strong frame of the earth, awake
By the lake
Of wonder,
Of bumblebees and lilies,
Under the moon
And the sun,
And the eagle’s wing,
In the wind,
In the wind
That runs soon
Through the open door
In the rain-blown rock.
***
By Sharon St Joan, November 2021
© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2021
If you like this poem, you might also like this website, Forest Voices of India https://forestvoicesofindia.com
Thank you so much, Cindy!
That’s a beautiful poem, Sharon!
Thank you, Dawn. I’m glad you liked it.
Dear Sharon
It’s sunny out there
Dry grass
Pursued by a chill wind
We scheduled our next meeting for Dec 16 and decided to meet earlier at 3 PM . Will that time work for you? Thanks for the awesome poem . Tom
Sure, I’ll be there, Tom. Thanks for all your poems, including this one!
Beautiful Sharon!