I whisper to you with song lyrics, call
softly through links to my sonnets, offer
prayers to our intelligent loving All
to heal and guide you through spirit’s softer,
easier way. It’s raining tonight, pure
gentle chorus seeming to echo how
mind, body and soul form chanting contours
of our days, speaking in many ways: Vows
sometimes, sometimes suggestions, tearful pleas
for distant days past and future, laughing
sighs as we recognize ourselves at ease,
rising from our present fog. It’s raining
tonight. Oak trees glisten like jeweled hills.
Car lights guide dark, hissing shells. Then it’s still.
Roger Armbrust
November 24, 2010
