A result of you burning our bed.
I lie on the cool grass and watch out for comets.
Racing from Olympus to Paradise.
I pulled off the ropes and entanglements.
Escaping with my life, but not my soul.
Now these clouds that cover the milky way.
Blotting out the moon.
Are really the smoke from the ashes of our home.
Yet suddenly you appear, covered in moon dust.
With starlight diamonds in your eyes.
And you take my hand, and tip the sky over.
Shaking out the stars.
Promising me treasure to be found from our ruins.
Blinding me with Midas light.

The minds’ eyes, often, play tricks on us, more so than our, physical, sight sometimes…
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It’s all an illusion!
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We are but prey to our emotions.
Great poem.
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Thanks Chris, we are indeed held captive! (And your feed is back in the reader, you site seems to drop in and out!)
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Strange. I’ve had this before both with my site and others I follow. Technology, eh!
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Odd, but the greatness rises through the electrical fog of war. Just happy I can still read your stuff.
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Bless you!
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Harsh and yet a whisper of magic. I particularly liked “you take my hand, and tip the sky over.
Shaking out the stars.” The imagery is so good.
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Thank you Tara, I like the sky as a pepper pot. Trying not to sneeze 🙂
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So evocative. At times while reading your poetry, I feel like I re-live some piece of my own history.
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Thank you for the kindness. The shared bits of dna and existence must be wavering through on some level. I hope it’s the good bits that are being re-lived.
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I found it it’s important to remember the good and the perhaps not so good as a way of improving myself for the future. Another way to say this is, “It’s all good.”
Thanks again.
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Consciousness, Consciousness, Consciousness – takes us into the moment.
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Ah yes: living in the moment may be one of my lifelong invitations.
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Mine too, the trouble is i’m peeking over it’s shoulder looking at what’s next.
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Ha! I can relate.
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