An exploration of the creative process through art, poetry, and community.

VI.

Like the fall of rains
Through the cloud of ash
Of one of our pyroclasms,
I was scared, falling
Sideways (through the layers)
With all the blurry
Angels like a firing squad

 

VII.

Standing in the rain,
I felt the wind like the breath
Of God, each drop
A globe that dissolved
My skin and flew me up
Into the sky, and then beyond.
The subtle percussion of infinity,
Lovely rain, purge my mind of
Sticky thoughts.

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