Clouds cover the spreading sea,
wind and waves speaking
of the weather to come
in the shimmering undulation
of hammered metal.
We weep beside her loss,
limitless yet so fragile,
our faces lifted into the skirts of rain
softening the rock age by age
into an undying green.
Thank you, Don. Thailand is a land of undying green, nearly every week in the year a growth week. Every grass, creeper, vine, bush and tree vying for one nurturing moment of Sun. Is it not so–even for you and for me?
I just read the tributes to a dear friend, Beth Van Schoaick, and this poem makes me think of her. Both are simply beautiful.
Pleasure in your poetry…