We’re having some wild weather here lately; tonight some golf-ball sized hail landed in the yard along with those the size of quarters. Before the storm, though, the weather was deliciously expectant with danger – the scent of rain in the warm, humid wind and steel-blue clouds rolling across the sky. Watching the trees sway, I went back to the days of my childhood. Our silver maple tree was built perfectly for climbing, and I could get way up near the top and hide from the world. On windy nights, it was my wild heaven. Do you have pleasant memories of stormy nights?
On windy nights
The branches of the maple
Became wild horses
That only I could ride,
Racing in dark leafy dreams.
Sweet scent of rain
Air filled with expectation
Senses quivering
Aware of what it means
to be fully alive.
For those interested in learning about Japanese tanka:
http://www.tankaonline.com/
moonbridgebooks 