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STEPPING INTO THE SKY

Two parts from the same inspiration

Stepping into the sky

Three days ago
Three clouds made stepping stones
into the sea of the sky, like lace beside me
flowing in a dance of soft warm downies buffeting my face
and through them I was cleansed and filled with grace
as suspended on the surface so divinely blue
I tried to grasp at handfulls of the hue
its tangible silky trace of moving particles a dew in air

they swirled about my fingers
serenely balanced there
each facet of each atom in harmonious rapport
with each little sweep stirred in the silver dust
a mountain top still capped with snow, so pink its glow
below me lay the sea in azure,
turquoise dancing blues and greens
a painting fit for palaces and queens

with galleons in full sail
so swift across the waves the albatross
its steady firm held wings
rising, falling, dipping, gliding on the winds
all this, why I do not know, it started
as I stepped on those three clouds, so long ago.
*************
Part of ALL

Stepping, falling,
sinking, melting
into the sky

I lost earth
weightless
in space unending,
suspended

upended
no longer upside down
or downside up,

subtle grey textured dust
soft and hard
were perceived
passed through me
and felt

moving in their
ordered stripes
and angles

is this the feeling
when one's conscious self
is totally absorbed

energies take over
all our mind
and flow
in their harmonious patterns

un-hindered
free
to be
just be
a part of all that is

this rhythm
revolving on
and in
this planet

in its timed cycles
joining the mathematics
of the whole

becoming and become,
becoming something else
melded

in the ever moving
universe
part of the particles
that make all things we know

part of what
mysteriously
became
what we call life.

***********

When I was five (1945) I had dreams, well I didn't think they were dreams, they seemed experienced in half sleep, the atoms of the universe were flowing past me in stripes and shapes of millions of tiny particles, of which I sensed myself a part, they were in subtle greys, rough and smooth textures tinted with colour, there was no horizon, no up or down, just matter going, forever going.

This I thought was an explanation of all, privately for myself, I revelled in this harmony of being, not needing to try to understand it, and to this day the thought of the perceiving of it, is something whole and special.

Nothing to do with any human religion, or lesson, or creed, or even ideas, my own total experience of feeling that THIS IS IT, at five not knowing that there could be an IT or why I should want to know what IT was, just knowing something that made me feel at that age, kind of proud to have seen beyond the mundane into the reality of myself.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 

Comments

extremely lovely poem, in all its parts! Your words afterwards remind me of Astral Travel!

always, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

I expect we all visit other places in our daydreams. That last line in 1st stanza of 1st poem seems a bit overdone with imagery to me but the rest read really well........stan

You mean the dew in air, it had rhyming words in it that's why it stepped in, I shall read it again and see for myself, thank you stan for commenting, and Cat too for the purr!

Nordic cloud

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

I shall retire to the angelic bed for now,
but carrying with me the thought of your comment here Lonnie, thank you.
Good night and you have sweet dreams when that time comes.

Nordic cloud

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

the first part reads wonderfully, Ann, but it is the second that I fell in love with.
Alice in the clouds, falling... in the sky, out of the sky, through the sky, not down the rabbithole... no longer upside down or downside up...
oh, this poem leaves me with so many thoughts and inspirations!
I am looking forward to reading all you have been up to this past year, soon, if time allows. I am glad that I found you here, my Nordic Cloud, my Ann of Norway, my Queen of the Snowflakes...
love always,
your Proprietress

Oh just fancy seeing your face again,
its sense of poetry illustrated in the concentrated look.

Not so many are like this one,
many simple nature things,
some of which are not special I think,
but then they might do other things to other people,
I just keep writing.
One on the bus to town and another on the way back, crazy.

Snowflakes soon will be falling
the spring is here
cherry blossoms

I send a x on each blossom
My Proprietress of the purple hearted orchids.

Ann of Norway.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

Dearest sister of clouds, ahhh, where to begin, what a delight to read your wonderful mind travel descriptions here. So many lovely gems of lines. As many variations as there are clouds really eh? Really enjoyed this. If there is anything I would crit it is merely that I got a bit lost with the abundance, mostly because there were more than one poem (it felt like a few popped togehter?). Though I would be the last to crit for that, & it is no criticism at all, probably just my weary mind struggling to contain the joys in a suitable form.

You do write joys dear Annushka, they spill out from your writing so richly, I almost hear them chiming with elvish laughter, there is magic in that gift dear one, I have grown to love you for that (& more) over the years. So wonderful to come back to you here in the writers domain, you have not ceased to frollic, it is wonderful.

Much love & celebration of this lovely piece, your "Cloud sister" Anni

Cheers
Anni

My dear friend always told me "Water the seeds of joy first"

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