Grass Song for Rainy Skies

Beneath me, the ember-grass kissed fire
upon bare skin, a silent disease for watching sky paintings
shift and meld in billowing cloud-bird-dances
upon the vaulted edifice of heaven.

The grass beneath sizzled in anticipation of caress
weaving siren songs into shimmering lures
To tempt sky children into sadness
and wring tear-drop banquets from innocent eyes.

And when the symphony of pattering rain-feet
dredged craters in the blanket of earth
clutching close to my bare skin, I heard ember-grass
moan in ecstasy, an accompaniment to my shattering shell.

I, casualty of redemption.