Blue skies behind a hue of white clouds.

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My soul feels in a constant state of chaos

and it feels like home.  With odd socks

and mismatched undies, with pony tails,

plaits and wildly, messy, hair. Shrills

of delight as the stars warm the night.

What the world see’s as plain I see as

divine beauty, a snail and his broken shell,

a lonely pebal on the beach, a petal floating on

the breeze ignite fires deep inside of me that

otherwise lay dormant. I skip through the

seconds in the day searching for new flames,

some burn on recognition of the soul and refuse

to burn out, flaming slowly day after day without aid.

Others burn in a millisecond flooding my soul

with passion that seeps into my fingers and onto

the empty page. Some days I search tirelessly

but the blue skies sit behind a hue of white

clouds and my soul feels momentarily empty.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

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3 thoughts on “Blue skies behind a hue of white clouds.

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