I am resurrected
by the sunlight of a new day

I warm
with hope transparent
as the softened yellow of a butterfly's wing

I flush
eager with the joy
of violet-red flowers
grown glorious by the holding
of their own light

The mountains caught the clouds
With no grasping, no trickery,
No conniving or pleading

Faithful mountain
How is it that a wayward cloud
Would leave the sky
To mingle with your peaks and crags
To brush against your rocky sides?

Searching soul
Belonging has the power to catch without reaching.

It's the one whose words should heal us
that wound us most deeply.

a blue sky
broken by clouds
has more character

It's never just one time.
We awaken
again and again,
much less faithfully than the sun
but no less splendidly.

The clouds above me ripple
off and off and off like waves.

I lie beneath them
trapped but unafraid
their curving contours soothe me
with soft gray thoughts of submersion
broken here or there by silver gold staircases
beams of sunlight leading my heart upward
in peaceful reverie.

Did I glimpse the face of God?

It's hard to believe
my sleep sticky eyes

So I blink in doubt

But even disbelief
Succumbs to the splendor of stars
and the beauty of love