Paradox

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It was enough

It was enough
that the rain
blew
white and clean
on my face.
It was enough
that the clouds
flew
black and wild
across the sky.
It was enough
that the sky
grew
grey and torn
by the wind.
But that the sun
should then break
through
and cast a rainbow
to the ground,
was more than I'd allowed.

Paradox

Though the leaves moved
they were still.
Though there were many
they were few.
Though the sun was weak
it fell with strength.
Though the leaves absorbed light,
they were transparent.
Though I sat on the bench apart,
I was not separate.

Words and image by Phyllis King