Summer arrived.

She yawned and

shook off the raindrops

— those bright beads that invited slumber —

she shook them from her skirts

and ventured

out.

— C.Birde, 6/19

Each

falling drop

of rain contains

the memory

of oceans,

of forests,

stars, and

bedrock.

Messages

of past and

future delivered

to this present,

to tongue and

skin and

hair.

Despair and

hope comingled

in potential.

Each

earthly soul –

one and all –

anointed in

the breath,

the blood,

the life

of another’s —

of all others’ —

presence.

No except-

ions.

— C.Birde, 6/19