The sky is sunny, the sky is grey
thoughts fall like rain within my brain
but fan into a rainbow bright
and dance in dreams later at night.
I walk past statues, I see stories,
in shadows and art, love and hearts
rise, fall with martyrs. I hold books,
(sacred) as nymphs slide into brooks
rippling pools and startling robins
that rise in song, and before long
my thoughts come ‘round, circle in flight
from darkness swayed to soar in light.
Anmol’s prompt on dVerse asks us to walk and observe. Those who follow my blog know that I do this often. There has been a lot on my mind lately–and there has also been a lot of rain– and this poem combines a few walks in Philadelphia and in S. Jersey.
WP seems to be possessed again. I hope the photos show up.