FORTY NINE: Goddess of rain

Woman of winds,
In the arms of a cloud
Dreams of a summer
Gone dull without fire.
A hundred hills scattered around,
Fortresses, grass and weathered trees
Patiently waiting for a streak of the sun
To turn the mist into a caress of golden brown.

Silhouetted against a grey blue sky,
Breeze twisting dark casacades of lustrous hair
And a gossamer gently suspended beyond,
Sacred, scared to touch her lips,
To break the reverie in her eyes.

The dayts too short, nights too small.
A thousand years may pass by
Rains can come and go, entombed
Within the dimension of time
To capture her images in my words.

One goddess of rain, woman of winds,
Stood in the arms of a cloud,
Watching at a distance the lifting veil
Of a newly wed bride.

FIFTY: When sky meets sea

Overcast skies and dim, dull light,
wet winds, the sky hanging low,
grey, sorrow of parting,
turning to joy,
in colours of union
So very anxious to merge with the sea.

The sea too is grey, grim awaiting the sky,
no longer placid blue, rich green or silver.
The calm of long months,
and turbulence beneath the tranquil,
Emptying all at once,
foaming away the lonely days.

Surging waves and dancing rain,
the sky pouring out emotions,
the joy of having met, evident.

Haunting and wondrous picture,
foggy with the clouds
Frightful joy and beautiful pain
attempting to overcome every strain.

There is water everywhere,
in the sea, the air.
Drama, the intense outburst of love,
when the sky meets the sea.

The onlooking rocks are not spared
- drenched to fit into the picture,
rain, sea, sky, water in different forms,
Merging at a distance,
proving.
The sky and the sea are one.