Oh they wondered what the wind was for
scattering kernels upon dark floors
raising arms like fronds in breeze
calling troops of last frost seeds
rising now above their needs
they wondered -
had they sinned before?
shattered deeds perhaps, and maybe less
but maybe more than click of knees
cornered bent for scattered creed
locked and chasing seasons tease
and here now, hearing wind
feeling whispering, teasing,
wind.
Go where white horses lay
on green blanket down
hear young men tell tales
of old Marlborough town.
Run where country girls say
we’re resting on heels
near riverbank’s end
with spin in our reels.
Skip past bullrush and sway
when hillwind comes
alive we will plough
the fields with combs.
Now stare at the edges in clay
and know there are stones
now pausing on land
only ancients
shall own.
Seeds
need rain
like you and I
disolving soil and
seeping down to earth
once and through again
we’ll go like icey broth
where winter chimes
in want and wait for sun
let us awaken, nourish all
watch each kernel
every disparate husk
writhe and double
push cloy clay and loam
grasp the psalm of storms
and later, balm
of kindle stars.
We are rain indeed
you and I
upon such footings now -
with joy we must fall
and sing this rattle song
to calm and tell of time
renewed, like seeds
and rain
like you,
and I.