The light burning through the window fades –

every cushion, floorboard and painting 

loses colour, the walls merge with the air

and everything becomes a meld of grey and beige.

 

The rain begins, then the hail.

Ranks of interminable storm clouds throng,

heavy, obscuring the light, refracting it

upwards, away from our hungry eyes –

up into space.

 

But the earth languishes in beauty 

with open, soil-stained arms – 

Gaia drinks the sky 

as it is her goddess given right

and as she swallows, the smell of spring, 

fragrant fresh rain, fills the innocent spaces

between our bones.

 

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Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Image by Anke Sundermeier from Pixabay