the weight of snow
atmospheric rivers
leave traces everywhere,
downed branches, closed cones,
paths sown with shift, with careful now,
the arrow tree fallen, broken in three,
rocks concealed, mosses snowbound,
golden leaves flattened like paper,
waiting for an autumn poem
about the weight of snow,
prayers planted for deepening dreams,
songs sung to agitations below.
water circles,
unimagined and appearing,
as streams unbank,
winds unbind thing from thing,
sun deafens to suggestion.
and human ingenuity reverts to
heat making, dry finding, slow moving,
nowhere going, calm arriving, quiet being.
and all this talk of atmospheric rivers
recalls stories told
by old women and men
who speak the language of what
the world has to teach tomorrow.