Falling into Silence

I draw the shawl more closely
round my shoulders;
shelter in my skin's membrane
as earth's pores drink the rain.

Unique, each minute crystal note
calibrates an inner scale:
rain on metal, rain on shale,
arpeggios of shell, frond, petal…

Droplets fall discretely,
but precipitate as chains;
in the pond's clear glaze the beads
implode, concentric rings in jade.

A lotus chalice fills, to form
a scented, stamen-filtered pool;
in that pool, a tiny pulse
of consciousness, a precious jewel.

Within translucency of skin
pellucid miracles transform:
the lotus opens to reveal
its jewel; a child is born…
 
The lotus floats above its pad
in waters far beyond its depth;
the unborn child, a lotus bud
floating on its hidden stem

hears heart as murmur overhead,
as, eyes closed, I might hear
rain's fugue - the separate note,
the threnody: the moment in eternity…

A gust of wind scoops random drops
in handfuls, scatters them again
to rattle against walls and roof like grain -
before sky's loosened tongues subside,
return to silence, whence they came…

I wrap the shawl about myself, eyes closed,
and sense the earth exhale…