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Open Poetry #40
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Imaginary Colors (inspired by Brush Stroakes)
| Open Poetry #40 |
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Imaginary Colors (inspired by Brush Stroakes) |
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Jaime Fradera Senior Member
since 2000-11-25
Posts 843Where no tyranny is tolerable |
Paint the world in imaginary colors. Then pretend the colors you made up are real, because they are. Like Wendy floating gently to the Earth, her body lush with love and an implicit promise, her form clothed only in the mists of Heaven, her arms full of "soft, warm, golden dreams," folding her celestial wings, reaching down to give me a rainbow. What have I done to deserve this gift when there are so many others who are hurting, Earthbound, on this still too dark and troubled world? I go to bed, knowing that tonight I will not be in bed alone, pretending that the dreams I hold in empty arms are real, because ... because they are. Better send this before it gets eaten, along with everything else that has happened today. I'm in your utility room among all the buckets and brushes ready to go to work on the modest humble hovel you call Home Southern Cross |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
BRAVO! What a wonderfully beautiful magical mind you have mi amigo. Gracias! You see and understand colors with your heart. |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
"pretending that the dreams I hold in empty arms are real, because ... because they are." All dreams are real, Jamie. They just take time or a lifetime to manifest. Keep dreaming and keep writing. Enjoyed this! Helen |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
reaching down to give me a rainbow. What have I done to deserve this gift when there are so many others who are hurting, Earthbound, on this still too dark and troubled world? the beauty of this was profound, and perfectely articulated....wow!!!! |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Mother Nature gifted us with a lovely day here in PA. Vivid colors shout to me, pulling me inside brilliant reds displayed by the Cardinal and intense cool blues of each Bluebird. Even the soft browns and grays of the Mourning Dove make me smile. The trees shake in the warm winds of a summer breeze, reflecting dancing light patterns and creating moving shadows on the walls of buildings and the surrounding landscape. ~sigh~ If I could, I would reach out and capture bits of the rainbow to send to you. |
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