For the hundredth time I drive along
a patch of Sammamish (Parkway) lined by leafless maples
The evening air is heavy with rain droplets
drifting down to the earth singing a song
The sky is a huge canopy of clouds – gray and menacing,
Though now impotent, squeezed clean of their treasures!
A sudden breach on the western horizon and
a huge cosmic light shines thru, the mist sparkling
An instinctive glance to my right and, Lo behold!!
A great colorful arc adorns a deep dark canvas
A gateway inviting to the universe beyond
Of mysteries ancient and untold
Colors jostle for a place, though each has its way
Surely a riot of colors, though they are but seven
Green tries to outshine the yellow, reassuring
the leafless maples that spring isn't far away!
Abhay B. Joshi