Thursday, April 7, 2011

a purple Spring wind

the wind here has been amethystine
dusky dark and blue
rising up from the vast expanse of pacific seas ...

as it skips and surges over the meringue tipped bay
it captures and carries
all birds here in flight
within the silent folds of its silken slips

all that remains of their intentioned flight
dark against day, black as night
is the faint whisper of rustled feathers ...
a prayer, an eye blink, heart beats

their graceful balletic movements
uncontrolled and runaway
are far more glorious
than their expected routine


they take flight my birds,
caught in windshine at sundown
like chiffon in the breeze
outlined against a periwinkle sky


inside, new work and spring flowers
unfurl and become real

ideas, auras, anemones  

like crepe paper and dreams ...


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