When Nimbus Comes
Lost in the storm within these bones
faith mended my angst at the touch of his concealed palm.
Chin lifted, I noticed thee —
water will fall, plenty.
Oh, but once upon, I despised these waters.
Having that in all my breaths
I desired sunbeam at eve.
Yet, in each breath I came to believe
that this nimbus is not weeping with me nor for me.
Rather —
these waters that drench my brown head of hairs
and these waters that slither on my pale skin like a longed-for affair
are indeed,
abolishing the stains pierced on my nakedness
into ashes that only water can drown in thin air.
When nimbus comes
its spear will flare
and the lids of heaven will grow apart.
The waters fall but dare not weep,
my spirit too
will dance with thee —
Copyright. Cynthia B.T. 2021. All Rights Reserved.
