Better Weather
If it's a weed but of wild beauty flowering, leave it.
Bee come into your being, pollinating industrious
for the hive furnace, the honeycomb colony,
simply another of nature's apartments, complex.
These spider webs are the architecture of bridges
glistening between sunflowers turning their faces
as satellite dishes tracking time and skies
with each planetary turn.
The axis is a clever Katydid no one feels the disguises of,
disappearing in flora and fauna all the world over, bio-diverse.
Wings, wings migrate chameleon seasons free at last
to be vastly themselves in week-spans or months
according to the permission of that powerful condition:
as is.
If only humanity could be so content, one with the elements
in structures all over without crooked shutters,
closed blinds in disrepair cracked for cardboard,
or black glass vacancies or the gaping of their absence -
lives as refuse settlements at best.
Should Kingdom Come may barbs on wires turn into birds
& the indigenous survive the myriad modern ways
of technological destructiveness in atoms harnessed
for the imploding and blowing out.
May Mother Earth come to shelter what is left
in rebirth rebuilding in synch with what balance
was interconnected by all at the heart right from the start
as it was not written but remains possible nevertheless.
Resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, Stephen Mead has intermittently been submitting work for publication going on four decades. He remains grateful to all of the editors who have given his work a good home as now, retired from his day job, he is busy trying to sell his 40-year backlog of art that you can view here.
