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The Dowry in The Skies
The smell of fresh baked cakes keeps floating in the air and daylight burst through the sky spilling coffee latte on the roof and I stood still inside and watch the cream drips slowly from the ceiling and my appetite began to grow.
The morning delicacies with its illuminated prophecy is baked in the sun on top of the roof and the skies spreads out over it, sauteing it with thick syrup mixed in consorted colors. And I watch the oracle unfold.
It is not one of the normal days when everything goes according to plan, the distraction chime in and the trespassers start singing a hideous song and the birds appear out of nowhere flying all over the skies.
I have waited for this moment to come, when the universe would bend its knees and run with the flame before the games and lit up the world and cover the darkness around.
The darkness is fading and true lights have emerged from the heart. The intensity is strong and I want you to come along. The heat is swelling and the asphalt is melting; the animals are jumping all around and the dowry has fallen from the skies and consumes the entire town.
The people were all sleeping and some were still dreaming the ball of fire lit up the sky and havens embrace the morning with a bucket of water to quell the global disaster.
They weave the thread of time, in the pattern of their mind, the threads are moving through the needle and the sewing machine stands still in the garment factory and watch and the threads crosses the points towards the median line.
It carves out various patterns of old and stitch them together in one bundle and place them on the assemble line. The Dowry in the skies came just in time to save them from total destruction.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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