Rain, gently falling
bamboo whispers,
granite glistens.

Rain drops.
Earth recieves.
intimations of morality echoing,
surround me.

raindrops drench
upturned face . . . eyes . . . lips
full of grace

grey clouds beckon,
hearts home,
while spirit roams.

fuschia dawn opens
jade mountain
azure sea.


I wrote this in 2000 while in San Francisco after being wrenched out of the islands by my fathers death.