Cathedral of Wind and Wood

Their laughter lifts the wind to its task,

weaving, guiding,
over limb, bough, wingtip,
drawing with invisible ribbons
golden caresses through bent reeds.

It licks at the trembling water’s skin,
hisses a path
through the tall audience of corn,
seeks solemn tones through wizened boards
in the old farmhouse.

They listen, nestled amongst buttresses
of a maternal sheltering oak,
tying golden whispered tethers
between them
in thin knots of confidence.

Small curious fingers trace stories
along the spines of autumnal leaves,
flaxen threads
illuminating a topography
more complex than their palms.

Tomorrow they may crumble,
grow rich,
pungent and fertile,
or wisp away in fragments
to far reaches and distant lands.

Today, they are rich stained glass
in a vast cathedral
of wind and wood,
lifted by laughter,
glorified by the sun.

Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.