Skip to content

Rain Dance

It had been 70 dry days here.  No rain.  Very few clouds.  But this evening outside WorkPlay – B’ham Al, we could feel her heading our way.  I wrote this sitting outside in the weather.  It was interesting to me how the metaphors merged.  I think I began to understand the ancient links between the weather and fertility in a more subtle way.

Rain Dance

She approaches

Out of the West She comes

Hot and cold interplay, creating currents

I catch Her scent and breathe Her into me

Cause She’s Windy baby, and She’s so fine

She moves me

I feel her on my skin

She drips Her moisture onto me, teasing me awake

God I’m dry, I need Her waters

She dampens the leaves, the petals are wet

She rumbles and flashes, revealing Her soul to me

Come shower yourself onto me, quench my aching thirst

The wild tumult rages

Twisting, turning, exquisite yearning

The sounds of Her coming approaches

She longs to spill Herself, give Herself away

She is come now and I alive ride on Her storm

Cause She’s windy baby and She’s so fine


Follow Plato's Groove on

November 14th – Moonlight – Live

November 14th – Moonlight

I have sensed Her silvery shifting through the noise

Shrill sirens whistle and roll through the canyon walls of this town

Yet I can hear Her silence

I feel Her tug on my flesh

But it is my Spirit who answers

The far distant beacon

She is haloed in soft golden white light

And I balance on the edge of madness wanting Her

Flesh and mind and Soul, frantic

Wanting, needing, knowing my lack

Wishing, willing, waiting for what is not, now

Stretched to the limit of Being

I surrender, exhausted I let go

And She rushes to meet me

In that space between here and there,

Flesh and spirit, mind and matter, we Are

Time and travel irrelevant

We exist together in the moment, in the Now

Like Her life waxes and wanes

Change is all that is guaranteed

It comes unbidden

Striving makes little difference

Life comes as it wills

We want what we already possess

And disdain what might sustain us

She is close tonight

Her eyes reflected in the soft pearl glow

Proximity though is an illusion

Her movement, my perception

She and I are of the same Stuff

Might I learn to walk my path as beautifully as She

Follow Plato's Groove on