Some days are like a drunk goddess
in delirious abandon
toppled her glass,
sending red and pink streams
to drift like rose petals amidst
brilliant blues and greens–
until the clouds gather in grey-browed fury
and the sea roars,
sings the universe,
what comes next?
What will your ferocious heart
as time dances
through if and when–
will you remember the slow smile of twilight,
the kiss of flower-perfumed air?
My message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. She likes to mix some humor in her warnings.