I place the paper

out where I can

see it in passing

Days go by

waiting for the

precipitation that

earlier

came as barometric

shift somehow gauged

in this weathervane

Words start popping

through like vestiges

of a spring-like rain,

blessings

in this winter of winter-

day, warming and fragrant

worn like undergarments

in a drafty house

offerings

to the Knowing Emptiness