I find all the ten sun crows

flying about this earth-

there is a fire dance everywhere-

words are aflame burning you and me-

a thousand phoenix taking flight in forests

every day, everywhere-

In every crack of the heart, of the earth,

seeds burn-

water, words, have all dried up-

there is no escape-

last night,

I saw him- dancing on its one leg,

the Shangyang– a rain bird,

no Confucius living now-

will there be a deluge then?


Posted for my prompt ~ Weather @ Poets United Midweek Motif