Winter window—a poem with art

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Winter window

Outside the opportune window one pink
head survives above geranium leaves
blowing in the winter wind, covered with
cold rain dropped from dimmed desire. The basil
released its hope in the face of the war—
forces of December and January—
mere stalks rising above the window box,
darkly silhouetted, backlit against
blind clouds.

— — — ——And drought dropped across the shoulders
of Judea, Samaria’s back—the
Occupied West Bank. It fell off the head
of the Galilee, the Golan Heights’ arms—
all collapsing to dust beneath war’s weight.
The Negev desires its few drops, water,
not blood.

— — — ——This cold rain has its soft purpose,
offers some possibilities—for all
thirst, for all dry mouths—for soothing rain fall
to redeem the seeds that will grow again, in
fresh dreams of seven promising species,
land with milk and honey flowing between
strangers and cousins who light bonfires for
warmth, not war—a light unto all nations.

————Michael Dickel

— — — ——

Water-color like image of a pink flower, green leaves, leafless tree trunks in grays in the background Winter Window

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