My thoughts, a melange in my mind.
A few comprise bits of cosmic dust
and strands of light
from birthing stars.
A couple stained with drops of blood
from rocks, earth, and fire.
At least one is like a marble bookcase.
Leather-bound tomes with silver filigree
store memories of many things.
Some float and some fall.
Some are taciturn and some call.
Some are hot and some are like
stones in the winter moonlight.
They speak and move,
even in sleep.
They weave dreams
and paint tapestries of colored hope.
These with ocher hue
tell of a body woven into earth.
Those, the deep blue of a midnight sun,
breathe with the peace of stars.
Some scattered forest greens
sing of beauty.
Bright orange, the guardians
watch the tides ebb and flow.
Royal violet hopes of things
that will never be
but yet excite.
Hopes of rain-spotted silver,
wreathed in gold and auburn,
hopes of truth and justice.
My thoughts, a melange my mind.
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 11:13 PM UTC
My thoughts, a melange in my mind.
A few comprise bits of cosmic dust
and strands of light
from birthing stars.
A couple stained with drops of blood
from rocks, earth, and fire.
At least one is like a marble bookcase.
Leather-bound tomes with silver filigree
store memories of many things.
Some float and some fall.
Some are taciturn and some call.
Some are hot and some are like
stones in the winter moonlight.
They speak and move,
even in sleep.
They weave dreams
and paint tapestries of colored hope.
These with ocher hue
tell of a body woven into earth.
Those, the deep blue of a midnight sun,
breathe with the peace of stars.
Some scattered forest greens
sing of beauty.
Bright orange, the guardians
watch the tides ebb and flow.
Royal violet hopes of things
that will never be
but yet excite.
Hopes of rain-spotted silver,
wreathed in gold and auburn,
hopes of truth and justice.
My thoughts, a melange my mind.