When water watches the pink sky,
and time plays with rust and diamonds–
in that moment the honeyed light sings
with gathered breath of stars and beats
an ancient and eternal rhythm.
if dreams drift from above,
to catch in moonglade,
or sparkle like spoondrift–
and you beneath,
embracing the blue ghosts that linger
in the slow smile of dawn.
My poem from the Oracle. She always knows. This is a strange time of year–beautiful and melancholy. We’ve had some spectacular sunrises lately–this one is from today– but we’re supposed to get thunderstorms later today. Last night my sleep was disrupted by some sort of police activity going on–very unusual. We live in a quiet neighborhood. We have a memorial service to attend, as well.
I guess WP is changing things again–the preview button has options now.