"Sleeting On My Soul"

I pick up a rusted shingle
blown from an old tobacco barn

Carefully place it above my soul

The cold gray sky releases its frozen tears
pinging on my soul shingle

The sound, beautiful sound, bringing me to the now
from the past and future

Sleet accumlates on my soul shingle
with a white granular glaze

I become a water trickle moving toward a stream
toward a river, toward the ocean

I become an ocean swell driven by an angry storm

I am lifted into white mists
and ride the winds to mountain peaks

This day, this moment I meet cold air
and join frozen tears falling toward my soul


rex