July 8, 2017 by petrujviljoen
Poems can ring, rise upon sun and moon
or bring momentum to an errant flame.
Maybe it falls face first, mangled too soon
its sound wailing against the sting of rain.
Dawn will singe your senses, set them all free
perform song and acrobatic dances
cry out in celebration, yours to see
rain’s dais the mountain top –
mist flares skyward. A splendid
monotone rainbow glistens briefly,
arcing outward, disappears into the
canopy bridging planet to infinity –
as words of poetic incline
plead of you – to climb.