Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Swimming Hole

The Swimming Hole

Mountains sing chorus
while breezes strum alto songs,
tones cradled in clouds.
Baptismal waters rushing
downward, pristine, clean
smoothing cliff sides, making love
in bubble rushes,
cleanse me, sooth me, sing out loud
sweet circling waters,
transmutation blues scream fest
spinning water ripples round.

Copyright 2010 JO Janoski

No comments:

Post a Comment