Over the horizon
waits a storm here,
a drought there,
and time moves.
Grasses bend before it,
sharp peaks round over.
Pearls and diamonds
are birthed
while I wait
in quiet
surrounded by motes,
light poured over my head
like a baptism
of star debris.
http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/ prompt: action
This is sharp and soft as a marble stoup..I love the thought of star debris..you catch it perfectly..Jae
There is something timelessly beautiful in your words. They are relaxing allowing the reader to somehow find the peace rather than the chaos of eternity.
Such lovely words! I especially like the imagery of “a baptism of star debris.”
So much necessary movement that we cannot see. I love the thought of a star and light and birth.
Delightful.
light poured over my head like a baptism of star debris. lovely image.
A blessing of poetry… thank you, Dee, for that bright rain of star debris.