Something

I come outside
under a seething spring sky,
vatic clouds proclaiming,
gesturing grandly,
towers of light shapeshifting,
receding,
speaking of a realm within a realm.
The ground glistens.
Earth holds a scriptural silence.
I wake to knowing
the eternal mystery,
constant state:
something has passed.

________________
Weather report

Mystery,
as a low pressure region
of the warm, moist unknowable
moves through our lives.
Precipitation: heavy to transcendent.
Highs beyond our understanding,
lows beneath our being,
increasing throughout our lifetimes.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

March 20, 2021