it is raining, first spring rain falling in darkness

grey gathering in the soft bodies of wild doves above the earth,

they are crowded and growing ever softer.

Darkness hiding behind their lighter feathers,

as they pull open the blossoms with their tiny beaks, one by one.

And I am opening. In the moment of openings I swim; my heart has greyness

and lightness and I am embedded; waiting for the axe to split the mountain