Friday, April 20, 2012

"layers of blue..."


“The sky grew darker,
painted blue on blue,
one stroke at a time,
into deeper and deeper shades of night.”
― H. Murakami

isn't this
the way it is
with
grace...

layers of blue
upon
blue,

songs of
sorrow and
sympathy
sung by voices that
have felt the
pain of
loss and
resurrection and
rise up
singing

there is a blue
that
whispers twilight
the soft
dusky ache of
a summer's day
as it falls
into the horizon and
spreads like
spilled ink along the
edges of tomorrow's promise

a blue that blurs the
line of
sky and sea
giving the heart a
place to
sort the treasures of the day
bits of shell
and sea glass
a speckled egg and the
feather of a
tern who called us follow
her delicate footsteps
in the sand...

there is a bewitching shade
of
blue
that pulls me
under its spell and into
a sacred shade of
stillness,
a sanctuary blue that
spills along the periphery of
my dreams and
floats like vapor above
the dark river of
tears

tears
that eddy within the
twisted roots and
trapped stories of a thousand
shades of
gray...

there are
blues that cause my eyes to
water and
ache with memory,
blues that
hold a scent long after the
heady days of
lilacs and lavender have
given way to the
shimmering heat of august's
pale sky and the
bitter icy blue of
december's
frozen
stream

there are blues that
skip, and
blues that comfort,
blue paint, and blue fruit
that tastes like
july in Maine...

my life is a layering
of blue, upon
blue

shades pale and
distant,
deep and
rich,
evocative and
hopeful...

a blueberry door
on a butter yellow farmhouse,
periwinkle pots
filled with
blushing poppies,
the fragile blue of a quail's
egg,
the strong blue of
my sister's eyes...

a denim blue that
smells of hay and sunshine
salt and tears,

the blue of heavy-headed
hyacinths and the
breast of
an
oriole

i dream in shades
of blue...
layers of
grace
upon grace...

upon grace

until
the sky
is ready to
hold the
moon
so
she can turn
her face
to catch
the
blue of
dawn...

"I lie in the dark
wondering if this quiet in me now
is a beginning or an end...”
― J. Gilbert



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