Time

 

On April First

the sky sprays water

four palms sway in the distance

and the buds on the tree (close by)

are yearning,

reaching for the heavens

the sky is at eye level

we all feel the wind 

rocking us

into the cradle of a new month

blueberry cardamom oatmeal steams

there is a new way of measuring time

with cold feet

and the gift of a morning inside (in self)

to trust the constance of time

how she unifies every moment

no matter how large how small

how soft, how hard

in depth, in strength

she humbles, she heals

she transforms, she stagnates

she brings light, she brings dark

layering and layering

as green ink still glistens in shell

as memories of creation become whole

fragments (of ideas (and hopes) and whims)

all here

On April First

Oak gall ink from January, Oak gall ink (fresh from the pot) in April

in my room