the breath of morning after a storm, listen
quietly the footpath with dabs of green shades
brown pools topaz sphere, discern
streams of dew from the fingertips of pine needles
trails of a papillon rain dance, smell

if only I could dip my finger in the collected pools:
a cup of jasmine, holy water font, a puddle
ripples the words rush in waves
a symphonic crash against the mind's template

the instrument is the chisel
dot the i's, cross the t's
of the fingerprints on the new sheet
pick a childhood memory whispers of
serenity to accept things I cannot change
courage to change the things I can
wisdom to know the difference
insert the . [period] at the end.