when from the bushes comes a bright sparkle,
like a diamond flashing in the last of the sunset light…
i walk closer to see –
it is You!
your eye catches mine before you disappear into the holly….
The ancients believed You swallowed the sun with your eyes,
keeping it safe until morning…
have you swallowed the rainbow as well?
(too humid for any of the papers i have, i paint on gauze and rice scraps…and everything bleeds…
the frogs cry out their songs of mating, and i meditate on tadpoles,
change is a constant but it is not the same thing as transformation)