my own weather

in a world complete with abstractions,
i come with my own sunshine,
my own wind –
the thunderstorms all around me
are all of my own

making. the clouds over mountaintops,
the rocks teething from sod,
the devious moonbeams
are all of my own

weather. to be or to do,
to drizzle, or come down in sheets,
or maybe rise to the occasion
and freeze.

i am inside my own
sphere, a globule moving with
ease and starlight,
in accordance to music

made for the inner ear, un-
broken by centuries, so
i listen, and come, and go
with a climate of my own.

in a world complete with darkness,
i come with a sun of my own.

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