"STORM" poem

"STORM"

"The rain will wake me even as I dream,
and carried into clouds unfolding in the bay,
there will be the herring swimming through the fields,
and the salamanders climbing up for air,
pulled from dirt, from silence,
like single words of praise,
and the knocking of our children's boots
along the dock, and their standing out,
half-dressed, beneath the threaded sky.
Then their joy will wake me too,
to how we lay our lives
like a finger
against the earth's rapacious pulse,
until the world returns in kind,
bending low
just to touch the spirit
as it struggles to survive the flesh,
and how the flesh, grown mute with grief,
must be carried back to greed,
must be brought to bear
the fluid weight of love,
our window cracked an inch for air,
the sheets thrown back in heat,
rain calling out the roof, the trees,
the children calling forward,
calling back along the shore."
COPYRIGHT 2002
Mothering Magazine
COPYRIGHT 2003 Gale Group
http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0838/is_2002_Jan-Feb/ai_100807018