by Steven Craig


They have that texture of forever

They change the colours of the sky

They bring the scent of the sea


The coloured sands lift their hearts to them

The trees bow before them

The rivers plead for them


They impress the minds that feel them

They beseech minds to behold them

They are the fact and soul of times breath


Torrents surge from their hearts

Stones cast near and far

The curbside fills with their gifts


Seen from safe cover

Through the pane they surge past wonderment

Trailing off their soaking wardens


They left the twigs and leaves on the walk

Puddles that reflect the departing cloud

A signature of power passing



Posted on 08/16/2007
Copyright © 2020 Steven Craig

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 08/16/07 at 03:10 AM

Powerfully vivid, man. You paint a wonderful picture here.

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