Categories: Pyramid Poetry

Joyous Breath (March 1995)

Ilse Meyer, Fremont, CA

When children skip
or hang from bars,
if we should name that,
the word is joy.
When trumpet vines burst
into red cascades,
isn’t joy the sound
of their silent blaze?
When creation spills over
breathing new Life
displaying inexhaustible joy:
God at play.

Originally appeared in: March 1995