starting to move on again.
like light rain on springs first crocus,
its soft sweet exhalation,
damp relief on His floral cloudy cobalt.
the sudden moody skies, what will they deliver?
if that is a flash of corn-gold sun coming hither...?
if so i will run, bare footed
and gather up all the village kids
my golden hair hanging down my back
like the flax...
and we will do a rainbow dance!
all of us together, singing, jumping and playing,
our little feet drumming on a grandure of grass,
whisperings of sacred belief
that God is here
