The rain and I
I suppose that is the way
Of rainforest life
I hanker for the sun
Complain about the wet
But it exhausts me
when the sun stays too long
I suppose that is the way
Of rainforest life
I hanker for the sun
Complain about the wet
But it exhausts me
when the sun stays too long
Every picture evokes a story
Evokes a feeling
Evokes a memory
Or an insight
Or a knowledge
I watched it pucker and peel
In successive seasons
Of wet, then cold, then wet again, then heat
Since decades past
The last thing on your mind
Is an avalanche
But it shouldn’t be
Tnorala rises
From a wide, flat plain
Dug out by a shooting star
Which fell to earth
If the bumblebee
Could do science
What world would its textbooks see
Some works of art remain incomplete
Once the artist has let them go
They need the touch of the audience
Their insight and influence
Wouldn’t it be nice
If the paths we could take in life
Were marked like ski runs
I love the chutzpah of communities
Which plunk themselves down on the edge of a continent
That the sea has been ferociously taking back
Since the land was born