The falling swirling leaf
From the wide-girthed olive tree
Lands on Italian slate
Also one olive
Falls onto the floor
Of Italian limestone
With that the rain is here
Yet not as yesterday
When the heavens opened
When thunder echoed
From mountain to mountain
With glorious, magnificent ease
Fingerprints on bookshelves
A sitting chair
Where books may have been
Only in that one quiet moment
Thousands of miles distant
With water, with tree
With spiritual shelter
Where one might see
Yours was not the only
Searing stripe of sunrise
We were both there
Don’t you remember
Yours was not the only
Golden glow of sunset
We were both there
Don’t you remember
Yours was not the only
Dream of days upon days
We were both there
I hope that, in this time, you do remember
I am not
The small embedded stone
On the bend
Of the dirt-track lane
I am not
The loose canon of a pebble
Implanted on the wall
Of the waterfront
I am not
The droplet of salt-water
Immersed in the waves
Of the ebb and flow
I am not
The breath of fresh air
Entrained within the zephyr
Of the four winds
I am the mind
Also I am the body
Happy in its own skin
Pleased to share these words with you
Those Zen like stripes
Pressed into the back
Of my bathing robe
Suggest to the outside world
A body which carries calm
With a good deal of ease
To the inner self
The indentations
Are in the worn fabric
A template of bars
For the soul
To willingly attempt to climb
Between the outer
And the inner, there is
A place for transformation
A skin
Which holds onto
Which sensually feels one other’s skin
Today I relax first
I go straight
To sit in the courtyard
The sauna
With 100 beads of sweat
Will come later
The steam room
With no way of knowing the time
Will come later
The jacuzzi
In the indoor-outdoor pool
Will come later
The aromatherapy
Scented shower with all round spray
Will come later
