love, the other weather

where the blankets cover

beds of the raining lands

over heads

wisps of winds

and the when of currents

vexes droughted grounds,

with brings hope

seasons change with,

condensing into we,

where the gables channel

like the folded hands

at the altar-

then warm is love and

bright are days

when the other weather

becomes a sun in springtime lands

together smiles at eachother.

dust collects inside a house

as snow upon the mountaintops

dust to dust, ash to ash

death to life, spring

is lovely to the senses

pleases with its warmth

and scents, colors bright

the sunlight as it waxes, but

movement is illusory,

for it betrays the moment:

juxtaposed against the sky

the ground is pregnant, and

potent are the petals

tucked behind the bud

and pressed into darkness

words between the pages