What is wisdom

Watching the trees bend

Beyond the walls, the

Birds cry the silence

Grow. The rains come.

The rains come to

Wet the Earth the air

The spirit rebirth the

Holy of Holies renew.

What is wisdom

We ask, we spiral down in,

Share whispered thoughts of

Conspiracy, angst and

Fear the tired old tracks

Of yesterday

And yet

Here come

The rains.

Some drops at first,

Some specks, leaves

Faint smudged

Though the clouds

Fill the grey skies

With darker presence

Winds pick up and

Spots become streams

Become sheets.

Washing, rinsing

Cleaning the air

Replacing past worries

With the now

To not get wet

To soak it up

To be free

In the moment

That presents.

And perhaps this

Is wisdon

The moment of

Moments everlasting

In full presence

Conscious and

Alive.