"Of the Soul"

       The winds of my soul
          They rustle the leaves of desire
             and bend the bough of will
          purifying the air of selfdom

       The raindrops of my soul,
           awashing and cleansing,
         They nourish the growth
           gently pelting the verdant ground
       slaking its thirst for the liquid of life

       The sun of my soul
          warms the grounding
            and its rooting
          Shining -- hidden, yet potent,
       awaiting its day of release
          from the cloak of night and fear.


			2/12/1996, pm

   Copyright (C) 1996, David D. Eisenstein.