~
my sleeping fingers hear night rain
they sweep wide
opening a window
my waking skin is dampened
smelling wakened soil
~
my blood is pulsing
melting runoff
~
breathing it all in
deep as my lungs will take it
tender buds
unfurl in my brain
without thought
~
full to bursting
~
………………………………………………………………………………………..
photo: nezartdesign
Poetry of Light 
Stunning image matched by such beautiful prose.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Chris! Comes that day, and in this case night, when it’s obvious the warmer weather is here to stay.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Here in the U.K. it is FREEZING
LikeLike
spiralling
into a slow channel
of peace
LikeLiked by 1 person
Interesting you should say this…I usually feel everything “surging” in one direction or another this time of year. This Spring seems to have a different quality. A suspended arrival….
LikeLike
goodness… stormed here as well last night… seems we might share experience
LikeLiked by 1 person
That we might Nathan…Spring there too huh? You crack me up…
LikeLiked by 1 person
a lovely dream
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks! But the rain woke me up and I slid over in bed barely waking up to open the window to listen to it…. and it felt warm! An “awake” dream after the long winter!
LikeLike
yes, a lucid dream and a stream of consciousness.
either way, lovely.
LikeLike
the gentle release of volcanoes…
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s so perfect John… it really could be the title! A gift? I’ll use it….!!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Where do we begin and where end in the unfurling into and out of whose voice whispering fingers sleeping spreading, fingers sleeping letters forming word word words like dew into mist like warm rain melting ice the window opening like your eyes… just barely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good to see you back Chris! I love it when you riff on something of mine. So much fun! Happy Spring…!
LikeLiked by 1 person