Thursday, April 12, 2007
After the Rain
How beautiful upon House Mountain were the clouds on its foothills-
They startled my consciousness with their light grey colors,
While masking the intricacy of man’s strivings.
How silently they poured into the valley,
Creating beauty, which had been obscured by sticks and stones.
It was early morn, but the light of day was sufficient to reveal the design-
How the Fog could yield a temporary happiness,
Through an emotion which was fleeting yet satisfying.
I could see the penetration of the wispy clouds into all of life’s illusions,
Yielding clarity to existence.
The fog was always in the valley- such a stark scene-
But I was above it, keeping a grander view.
How slyly did it seep into the crevices of the day,
Slowly shifting to a lighter hue.
Then the first light of the sun’s tiara was upon me,
And the ephemera were from another time-
Harold L. Overton (14 Feb 03)