with the rain

it is early morning
as i come to sit in a circle
birds spread out before me
with music that wears away
roots' heavy years in the air
in the air in the air in the air

gateway to a mighty voice
the rain the rain the rain
as it pounds on tin roofs and leaves
as it pounds on passages of sleep
whence i struggle to emerge
soon there to return
without this bundle
or so says the wish
after ferrying an orphan pain

though often the urge to unload
ends weighing on the burden

this listening redeems
it is an ancient song
it is the voice of the world
humming its own beginning
maybe a resurrection

source of endless vibrant songs
where alongside birds
we too glean our provision

siem reap, august 2011
ubud, july 2013