"Belonging"

Belonging

The wind is dear on branches,
though it's passing
The smell of newborn rain on wood
like matches, dried out for a purpose
waiting to be ignited -
by gentle breeze
or starry night,
or by a flight of fancy...

Passing -
Yet how much more it's glorious to stay!
To sail and come to shore
To be invited, glad at the wedding dinner, part of the family;

"Belonging"
Should be as dear as stay -

Knowing the moments,
And measuring the time
by droplets of eternity.


@ 1999, Avi Abrams



Photo @ A. Abrams (click to enlarge)