Monsoon

A poem

The rains wept
A hard outpour of celestial emotion
And immediately became steam

Returning to a sky
Saturated with water
Waiting to be birthed

Beside a pond I stood
Seeking a moment’s reflection
As I stared in the depths

Flowers, to the heavens
Their perfumes wafting
Fragrant lilies, seated on the water

In silent meditation
Whose impossibly delicate petals
Are rubbery to the touch

Above, the air is pregnant
With the tension of a storm
Yet to break

The water is never still
Its energy is motion
No different than the mountain

An expansive force
That yearns to break
From the prison of stillness

There, in the ripples
A lesson lay:
I am to become none
And fragment into all

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