Delicate poplar clouds
were carried away by the strong wind
together with the spinning wings of maple seeds
They showed me where I began to curl inward
apologizing for taking up air
for gravity
for dreams
I was becoming invisible and angry
On a Sunday afternoon
the wind opened my window
and I saw the dance of the poplar and maple
delicacy and change
angel feathers and little spinning wings in the air
Suddenly, my questions became the image
of the coming storm
Heavy rain came
The Earth began to breathe
My thoughts dissolved
How much I needed that storm!
I see us
in the pulsing air
in the tone
of a leaden cloud
I felt the whiteness on my skin
the maple wings
the wind
the heavy rain
They were needed
I was twisting through a hundred lives
The wind touched me
soft whiteness touched me
maple leaves fell at my feet
So I carefully drew clean air into my lungs
and then felt lightness