Future held in red

She holds the delicate crystal

peering in

tomorrow in her sights

or just a snippet of now?

Softly she speaks the words needed

the poets pen flowing like a river of mercury

shining and smooth

rising letters.

Red dress moves about as she ponders

the message

to tell all or none at all

lest the heart become downcast

of a future it so desired,

she speaks the truth

to the open ears and minds

of those she holds dear,

crystal ball moving within

spiraling through both time and space,

closing her eyes she hums her mantra

as the sun majestically appears

through the darkened clouds,

the truth will move forward

as it is prone to do

knowing no other path

than the one less taken.

Thoughts on muses and fine art and all things magical.

“the crystal ball” oil on canvas John William Waterhouse 1902 in the public domain.

Searching over grey

Somewhere over the darkness

grey skies of morning rain

tempered in humidity

wring out the skin

new day

begin again.

he sings to me

tired eyes looking for that first spark

that feeling of a quiet morning joy,

the timbre soothes a weary soul

lets dance

the mind trembling like the flower

of a place from long ago

a box of sound

two eyes different

like a magic illusion

under the moonlight

run, hide, heart break in two.

Song spirit rise

take me on this morning ride

over the cloud to a color

rainbow world

let’s dance under the moonlight

hiding in plain sight above.


thoughts this fine Tuesday morning as David Bowie serenades this rainy day.