Colours In a Cloud Speak
"Colours in a Cloud Speak"
The colours
of a world
speak
no one
has time
to listen
The spectrums
speak like
music, lucid
like clouds
that pulse ultraviolet
in front of you
through wide open
windows, unavoidable,
some strange dream
your eyes see,
but do not
speak
the unbelieved
reels in the
unbelievable
we live
in these odd times
we observe meanings subliminal
that no one else
other than we
in our own moment
believe,
could see
on the peripheral
of even
like odd
evening clouds
in the small hours
that pulse curious
purple, then ultraviolet,
points of calculus
invading our
small space, try reasoning
watching us
as we move in
some strange elusive dream
a beacon
calling us
home,
some strange home
calls us crazy, we are
cats cradles cartwheeling
unreachable
we think, it exists
somewhere else,
other than this,
in the
in between
unseen
we exist
we dream
we try to live
what we see,
is not real,
it’s spun
like fairy floss
in the machinations
of the others' schemes
sugar tastes sweet
addictive, we are lost
in the after taste
wanting more
of what we
know is their drug
what we are taught
from birth to see,
is not the real of reality
our minds are locked
from time of rebirth,
re-entry
into
well-rehearsed territory
birth pains burning
the inevitability,
truth hits us
the gravity glitching
karma circles
Ferris wheels
that stop occasionally
to let us
get on
get off
it could be
realer
than real
the mysterious colour
hidden in clouds
we touch
in our dreams
we are like
comets falling
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
cat's cradle
noun
a child's game in which a loop of string is put around and between the fingers and complex patterns are formed.
Harry Chapin - Cats in the Cradle
Copyright © Lady Labyrinth | Year Posted 2022
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