
two nights of wind storms
have blown my fearless cover
this morning the light
moves quiet as a snake
and golden across the hills –
illuminates tree by standing tree
for now the wind has settled,
silent and stripped bare
the world wakes –
my feet crunch brittle
in the fallen leaves
picking a way between
dropped branches
small birds are counting their living,
calling to each other high and sweet
from the new swept trees.
there is no hiding
under a big storm sky
we hunker down
we wait wakeful alert
we pray.
in this slow morning sun
i check on the seedlings
tend the peas
take note of what still stands
what still holds
despite it all.
vegetable garden damp
seeps the hems of my skirt
the taste of gratitude
like new raspberry
on my tongue
high against the clouds
ibis still fly their prayer runes
across the sky
where our words have failed
the earth still speaks us.
For Sherry at earthweal’s weekly challenge: A PRAYER FOR HARD TIMES.

Leave a Reply