Sunday, April 29, 2012

every night is different

this is
an evening that arrives slowly
in the closing
of the cherry blossoms
so pink then pale white
in the moonlight

this is an evening
that flutters in featherfuls
through the deep navy blue
cloud sky

this is an evening
of candles
each flickering of which
wishes into and beside itself

this is an evening
of painted shadows
and vanilla fingers
spreading across
this little reaching out world
that begs
and hopes in fervent whispered prayers
for you
to see
the goodness and the joy
in the very wondrous unfolding
that is your living selfness


Valerianna said...

This is the morning that remembers the painted night, and the "wondrous unfolding" that is your words.....

Pauline said...

It and us - a beautiful symmetry if we let it happen. this is such a wonderful unfolding, Steven.

steven said...

nice build-on valerianna!!! steven

steven said...

thanks very kindly pauline!!! steven

Valerianna said...

I came back again to read this - I like these words a lot - and the new header. Word-texture, grass texture... good for me.

erin said...

this reminds me of an exert from a rumi poem i just read yesterday,

Any movement or sound is a profession of faith,
as the millstone grinding is explaining
how it believes in the river.
No metaphor can explain this,
but i cannot stop pointing to the beauty.

the world speaks. we have only to listen.