Skip to main content

Asking the Sky

 Sharing today with The Sunday Muse #225.


I was asking the sky where the rest of me went

Where the lace goes when it frays

Where the net blows when it snags

Where the party evaporates

 

The sky asks me where it goes when it breaks.

Where parties form condensate

Where net is woven into rays

Where lace ravels into panes

 

I was asking the sky where the rest of me went.


I find myself at the weekend sort of feeling at sea. I'd like to hit a local author festival as I'm in need of a little push/inspiration to get through that part of the draft that sends me off looking for new, shiny ideas. However, there isn't one nearby and I'm not really sure I'm up to peopling today. It's a pickle. :)

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. SunitaAugust 27, 2022 at 10:47 AM

    What an evocative poem! Loved it, Chrissa :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. FireblossomAugust 27, 2022 at 12:46 PM

    You'll find it, as soon as you do, some other piece will have run off for a while.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Carrie Van HornAugust 27, 2022 at 12:49 PM

    These questions and poem are deep and amazing Chrissa! I love every line! Simply beautiful! I feel you on needing some inspiration and I definitely wish I was not having to do peopling today. LOL

    ReplyDelete
  4. robkistnerAugust 27, 2022 at 2:31 PM

    This is wonderful Chissa. Hope you get your answer. 🙂✌🏼

    ReplyDelete
  5. JimAugust 27, 2022 at 8:04 PM

    And the fish bite ... There aren't answers to every question, some are rhetorical.
    I did like the questions; they are right for making one think.
    ..
    p.s. Our computer cratered and our son gave me this older one. I didn't sync it with google's world and now I can comment with it. But not the smart phone, it still gets stymied by some.
    ..

    ReplyDelete
  6. Gillena CoxAugust 27, 2022 at 10:59 PM

    Luv this form Chrissa. What is it.
    Happy Sunday

    Much💖love

    ReplyDelete
  7. Marion HortonAugust 28, 2022 at 2:25 AM

    Love the questions, and the images of the deconstructed sky. Good luck with your hunt.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Keith's RamblingsAugust 28, 2022 at 7:54 AM

    Where indeed. Some questions don't have answers.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Susie ClevengerAugust 31, 2022 at 3:20 PM

    You'll find it, grab the inspiration, and then be filled with questions again. So beautifully expressed, the longing for answers

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

To Blue Fields Far Below

 Sharing with The Sunday Muse #228 , The Fashionable Twenties.  A sycamore fairy sits crosslegged in the road Dragons swim toward smooth hills above the storms Vines embrace the telephone poles  Someone washed the blue skies and she knows  It's time to dare the salty foam It's time to wade through the eternal fields' folds And gather golden apples for home.  Hoping this finds you with space to daydream and a good book in which to wander. Working on turning last week's prompt into a longer piece, as I found myself intrigued by the idea of tea in the garden as combat. Social situations are not my forte. As it's still Spider September, there will be a chihuahua-sized jumping spider that is none too happy about anything but hunting squirrels (that's for you, Mom).  -- Chrissa
6 comments
Read more

Flagrant

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #217. Come be part of the conflagration. :)  Oh, they called the mob to celebrate But only the fire heard They called the mass to congregate But only the dry grass bowed A conflagration Called to prayer Hungry for light Hungry for air Oh, they called the mob celebrate Wearing flames in their hair They called the mass to congregate Faceless in the burning air.  Greetings and salutations. I'm not sure what to say--we're not celebrating the 4th this year (not that I'm prepared to cede one holiday to the authoritarian idiots in charge of our state, but our grass is still dry from the heat and we have a dog terrified of fireworks...so we're celebrating by bunkering down and watching Howling 2  at the gleefully deranged suggestion of my sibling) and otherwise I've turned our dead corn plants into the basis for this year's Camp NaNo project...it's turning into a weird year, the kind of year where I'm reading more horror than norma...
7 comments
Read more

Once Upon a Future Past

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204 . It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening ran behind me dragons, demons, and the sleeping world; afraid to turn, to wake me. Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening followed close; a fantasy of goodness, where the gold is always covering bones. Power needs its fairy tales, its witches. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening treads my hem, like an army from the dragon's teeth and all the lies therein. -- Chrissa
14 comments
Read more