Acutonics Institute of Integrative Medicine



14 Aug, 2023

Donna Carey

Petrichor: The smell of rain before it’s arrival, maybe something beyond meaning,
A gasp of the sensation out of a lane, a sense we develop for our very survival.

The herd
Limitless grace
How absurd
They are down the mountain
In the pasture
Feasting on alfalfa
Blueberry clover
Grazing past divisions
Willing to cross over

Wading thru currents
Phase transitions

This is a window
If not today
I’ll wait till autumn
Mustard yellows populate
Aster’s purple
When their sounds
Fill our worlds
And efforts bring yields

I feel them like rain
reconcile presence
for their smell to remain
Gold blood flowing
releasing pain

Devastated environments
Courting chapters
More heaven sent
. . .  hesitant flow

Linger here forever

in tufts
Of silent snow

Linger here forever

Till it’s time to go