Saturday, April 9, 2011

Dust In Beams of Life

Dust speaks.
Dreams of mingling in mist
like an endless wave of
blood moved by the beat of
drums. Language that vibrates
in shadow.

At the center
eternity hovers like wind
in the tremble of wings.
Earth its metaphor
(shape now released)
exists everywhere.

© 2002 Joanne Elliott