V.
(Dans le bord du lac de Jouarres)
Fire crackles at the edge of Lac de Jouarres
Burning off old vines.

All is calm save the crickets and cicadas
As the sun sets in yellow
Over the purple mountains in the Montagne Noir.

Distant buoys rock in and out of view
As you are
In and out of view in my poem.

VI.
(Laure-Minervois)
Wind carries 1000 seeds
Giving to the barren land
Purple clover, dandelion,
Queen Anne’s Lace.

Beauty waves like a blanket in the wind
The scent of ancient dry pines blend
With the endless radio of cicadas.

I am searching for you in the center of this day.
Calm center
within my soul
beyond words of disputation,
dialectics or imagination.

Where Is God at home?
Isn’t it in my laughing eyes
Which see things from the origin as very real?

Harmony between my soul and all created things
Resonates this ragged valley.