The rainbow’s colors are scattered,
clearing up wonders of being.
The winds took a moment of silence,
daydreams are swayed back to cradle.
A cloud has grown roots like a tree,
flooding the fields with blue flowers.
Wild grasses still catch scents of clay,
returning their breath to the sky.
The Word running down from above
is carried by pulverized light,
uniting today with tomorrow,
like circles beneath a tree bark.