Thursday, October 25, 2012

it's always dark when she awakes








we choose our parents
as souls crying to be reborn
into earthen vessels, for artist souls



look inside to see
their own temperature--what makes
for a good poem.   honesty told through

a pin hole in a wooden flute
found by the banks
of the susquehanna river
casting in the wind soul

reminded  to be a part-
nourished by the wind art
of cooperative blessings

we ache joy in cyclones &
form wax winged words
like birds-- knowing when to perch,
and when to let them fly

Kate Lamberg
October 24, 2012




fluffy october cloud~ photo by Kate Lamberg~

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