Pastel Skies

In every step,

there is a spring

that bursts from

the ground to gush

forth into the heavens.

The droplets of water

scatter, countless wet stars

weeping prisms onto the

colored canvas of dawn.

Sky softening, smiling,

a demure virgin blushing

at the mention of

the verboten.

 

In every word,

there is a choice

to turn the page

and start a fresh or

ensure with what was

and create a beautiful

hope reaching into those

spring-scattered heavens

and touch the stars,

touch the impossible.

 

My dreams are

pastel skies, painted in

reminiscent shades of childhood

past, girlhood and hopes,

broken wishes and

new betrayals.

Innocence flourishes,

a ripe fruit to

be eaten and passed

on to the next.

I lucid dream of

sparkles, glitter shimmering

into the gossamer cosmos,

my love for the

untouched, unknown,

gushing forth as a

passionate spring.

Cotton candy pink

and blue, butter yellow,

tabby-cat orange,

sweet lavender, gentle green,

painting my aboves

and belows,

my here and there.

 

I could be impossible.

We could be impossible.

But, like my dreams,

we are here, existing,

lingering but once in

individual pastel skies

and into the browns

of another dimension.

Oh don’t tell me,

don’t you want?

Remembrance? Yearning?

Impossibilities?

I touch them every day.

Forget to remember,

but don’t remember

to forget.

All the miseries your

form has allotted you.

This. Only this.

Pastel skies and

sweetly scattered droplets

sparkling above.

The waltz of

heaven and earth,

sky and sea,

to a tangible song

tangible to only

the ones who listen,

truly listen.

Just listen.

Author's Note

Just listen.

Reviews

[Ruth]

Stunning visuals and flow...wow...emotive piece that surrenders all, tunes in and accepts the deluge of life...in many ways ...

[E.V. Black]

Thank you! I feel like I'm heading in different directions, branching out.