Cycle of Blessings

Beyond the sight of human eyes,
friend of greenery, dances with wind.
Tears of becoming collect.

Mists in the midst of feeding

rise to penetrate soils of beauty.
In the cycle of forever we wait.

The weeping willow, the tall green oak,

speak to the bushel, of quenching waters,
and sooth through reassuring whispers.

My eyes, my ears, my nose, and fingertips,

my taste buds fathom bathing rinse.
Tender ways of carressing youth commence.

Elixer of life depletes the burden of strife

in the all relaxing illumination
as the rays of Father Sun magnify.

Through dew drops of the fallen,

recycled into the noon hours,
the feeding deserves a prayer of thanks.

And as the wind whisks,

the feathers of falcon
glisten in the haven of dusks comraderie.

I serve no purpose,

but to bless another
in the lovely showers of the watering.

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Cycle of Blessings by illuminate

This is a short poem on the essence and beauty of the eternal cycle of precipitation.