today
i felt
the
rain
on my face as it slick slid
to my lips parched and swollen.
cracked like desert is my skin
like parchment dry and yellow
whispering ancient wisdom only
to fly--unheard--by my
nervous ears.

and cold was the forest rain
like the only daughter of the
valley of the sky i was fed
and into the mutable soil
my unfettered roots sought:
touching, prying, eagerly and
jealously hoping searching for
fingers. hearts and moons live
not in the desert but my roots in
silk sand took hold.

03/17/2003

Posted on 03/18/2003
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