For the Sun after the Rains

The river of stony sunlight cuts
through the still lake.
I want to move like a river
and I have been a lake
for some time.

The Papyruses sway beyond the lakes,
on the sides of rivers.
This whole painting looks
like the first ever instance
I saw
of a Naturalism Painting.

Beyond the
Way Out Through the Clouds
I sense a sky I never gave enough
of my thoughts or time
to learn to walk on.

There is Sun blazing
and no dampness in the
Hemlock Tree
on that side.

The clouds have rained and washed away
and cleared.
Beyond the
Way Out Through the Clouds
is the sun that feels unpleasant
for a few hours

For the Sun after the Rains

but gleams in the fresh eyes
of the washed forest
and becomes ever so pleasant to sleep under.

Before a moment could begin
I have believed to take so much
from it –
I cannot see anymore
all that a moment holds.

I am sitting here, in a damp forest
writing to remove the rust
of my mind and heart.
I will watch the leaves move if I can't see the winds dancing with the trees.

A plaque will immerse itself
in the lake it began.
A wave will wash the sand and
the river of stony sunlight
will cut through the hearts of stone.

I might not want everything
that the Way Out Through the Clouds
holds.
But I will attempt to get there
for the sun that would kiss us
after the Rains.

I want to move in a river
or just be a part of it,
never in the same place
for a long long time.