Tag: wind

Listening Meditation.

Lucy 
Birds overhead
 and the rain sweeping violently over the roof in sprays
 snatched by the winds and torn away
 then lashed on the rooftops again.
 Birds fly over
 giggling 
 and calling as they pass.
 The cat doesn’t like it.
 Meows
 a startled birdish chirrup
 and jogs over to me.
 In the left ear
 gas burning
 in muted and droning roar.
 To the right
 the rain dashed on the window glass
 spittered
 closer than the swirling roar inside the walls 
 beneath the ceiling.
 Birds call overhead
 again
 these screeching and squarked calls
 bickering as they go.
 Now footsteps 
 in another house’s hallway
 (though there’s nobody home)
 thumping
 they vibrate through the floorboards
 and rumble
 in the floors.
 No voices
 only the birds calling and bickering
 and giggling 
 as they go.

Weather Turning.

Lucy

The wisteria had completely died away for the winter and was now just a mess of bare, stick-like tendrils grasping to the house. But other flowers had been more stubborn – the roses were still bravely opening new flirtatious buds into the cold and the lavender trees, neat and thick, stood staunchly. The summer-dried and now rain-soaked leaves smelt like French fields, sun-drenched and stretching out flat beneath a low, blue sky. It seemed some hasty gardener had been through the bushes, for the path was strewn with freshly clipped lavender branches and scattered flower-heads. They and the cut ends of the tree’s branches were leaking fragrance into the air and infusing the raindrops with oil. The rain broke-up the air willy-nilly so that I caught the scent only in quick snatches before it was washed or wind-blown away. As I walked down the path the cat-scratches on the backs of my hands brushed against the bristle-like dead-heads and stung, risen and puffed, in fine slivers of pink through almost translucent skin.