The Clouds Fly By

Odilon Redon, “The Muse on Pegasus

And in the after-fever, haunts and haunted linger–

but with a beat, the dream ends,
and above my bed, the moon still sings
of time and love, and endless thingsโ€”

of winter aches and purple storms,
of thousands dead, and the forlorn

recalling spring, mourn the light–
today there will be no rose-pink dawn amidst the shadow-spray,
only grey.

Yet cloud-fingers point, as if to say
behold the way the diamond-sparkle plays
on the ripples there–those other days.

Your heart cries why, your head knows when
the honeyed glow comes,
youโ€™ll see the beauty once again.

My message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. When I looked outside early this morning, I thought, there’s no rosy dawn today. It’s cold and windy, and the sky was full of dark clouds. The Oracle always knows.

28 thoughts on “The Clouds Fly By

  1. We cannot always find rosy-hued dawns but it is true, they will come again, another day.. I say as I look outside at the blue skies, telling me to get myself out there, despite the 10 degrees… Brrr! But the skies are so blue! I must. Pictures to be taken, steps to be had and all that ๐Ÿ™‚

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