Optimistic and Hope

Sometimes you have to write what you really want to see.

It is not a matter of slumbering or being inattentive.

It is what you may ask of the universe. The birds of the air have already given me signs. However sometimes a feather is not enough.

I mean don’t get me wrong, those signs have led me down a very divine passage.

While I was unsure many times in my life a sign was always sent unexpectedly. An assortment of colors in ivory whites, light grays and obsidian blacks. Those feathers helped clear my self doubt. However now this may be short of a miracle. I am asking in an Alice in Wonderland of sort. I am not following a white rabbit. This is a frozen dream in time, a wish.

It’s wintertime . Bleak and numbing, bitter is my mind.

A little something tilting on the horizon of moon and sun. I believe it is possible somehow, someway. All cannot be lost in this methodical routine we call life. I walk among the darkness, nothing is audible.

Flickering and glittering just below the powdered sugar snow.Rippling and flowing hidden, a mountain stream.

Standing, my hands clasped in prayer grateful for the tranquility. It is the only way for me to recognize the truth. I have watched strangers pass, how far have I wandered? I remember walking barefoot in grazing pastures of mango orange poppies. My blue and white gingham dress, tattered and worn,had belonged to many.

Here now with the dark sky lurking above I wait. I know I am asking for something bigger. I am not ungrateful perhaps possibly blind. Will it be enough? I probably should be struck by lightning for being so foolish.

The licorice blackness lingers. Circles creeping in around the first blush. I move into the cover of quaking aspen trees, and shivering white pines. I hug them tight, as if they will warm me. Is it possible the answer lies within?

The night creatures chat in a secret language. Time has moved oh so slowly. Flower rain blossoms float from a luminous sky. It’s as if the stars and planets have crisscrossed in merriment! Silently and gracefully they fell. Light pillars, tiny ballerinas pirouette upon an open stage. Arrows of fire, silvery tufted bark, a melody, a quartet!

Sweet green pines sighing, arms outstretched as if receiving a gift. Shining like Christmas cake frosting, reclothed in all their finery! A coat of honor with gold, and pink white laced fans. I reach out to touch them curiously, they flutter. Wings begin to appear, they dazzle in apricot oranges, mint greens and steel blues. Honey yellows bounce upon abstract whites and midnight black prisms.

Sailing upon the crisp air they thread and weave through fir pine needles. Each dusting themselves in a blanket of jewels. Here and now finally it is time to reclaim my sovereignty! I am not faulty, the world is wrong. It’s my world it just looks different. Insightful, I am my own tailor. The truth may be what I say it is. Alone at the top of a hill and stepping off the map it is picturesque and surreal!

This dark and white sky is not just a sign, but a conversation. Mystified and dazed do I know that this is right? It is an odd relationship that occasionally eludes my perception. Graphic halos cluttered with grievances. Sitting haphazardly with a small amount of Queen Anne’s lace spattering the heavens. Drifting on a soft secret.

My mouth says the strangest things, French playing records in the background. Loyal or not, I have found the vision’s whimsical! Looking for a sign in a dark sky. How many vocabulary words should I use to tell this story, a thousand or more? Vowels, and consonants, letters put together to form a sentence. My story of what sign I am looking for. When is the right time to look? The sky can be dark at anytime.

In any season, in all weather wintertime seems to be the darkest. We lose hours of sunlight and the days seem shorter. Waking up in the dark, sleeping in the dark. Eyes open, eyes closed. Painfully dark, and motionless. Shooting stars, faint lights engulfing you, consuming your thoughts.

Essential to the rhymes stemming from evolved cycles. We crave answers from our lack of knowledge and understanding. Like the depths of the ocean, so is the sky. In its obscure way of contributing to our thoughts and our incompleteness and navigational instruments. The asking is only part of an equation a bridge to cross.

I wait for eloquent fountains to rise and frost bitten icicles appear. I am assured I am patient. If you found three keys to a freeway would you travel? Standing here in a vast expanse the night still lays down a blanket of comfort.I am deeded the night watchman.Powerful things will happen here.

It feels like a mirror, I have been here before. I think, in this clearing there is no debris. Choose wisely, become you. We make the way by walking the steps. I shall put my life across the distance. Look carefully, pinpoint that moment. Alive is the beautiful art framed in three dimensions.

Here in this dark sky I am optimistic and filled with hope. My eyes blink as if I am photographing like an old Polaroid camera. My artistic sweet nature thankful this is what my spirit calls for. I am reaching clarity here. Solitary moment’s connecting to all living things.

I want to stay here speaking to this dark sky. I find it appealing, this description like an inky black painting. It has serenaded me this night. A story of many ,remembered in blocks of time . Faintly is the sound of diamond dust silhouetted in mid air. I hear now and see the signs. This quest just one journey of many, written on blue lined notebook pages. Not all the words are readable for it is late and the snow has begun once again.