Reality begins

“Too late!
You’re already past this new beginning
By ten words.”  I joked with my angel.
“With that attitude of time
You’ll be forever outside this portal”newbeginningsangel
Said she in a wispy wordless voice
That was reminiscent of my nightgowns drapery sounds.
I could tell it was opening for me,
The way my hands began to glow.
“So what’s inside?”
 My angel amused at my naivety, said
Refineries, monkeys directing eagles
Artists think they are escaping in the boatshaydavis
they painted, but it is the ever changing sea
That is the fabric of their reality”
I shifted in my shift, uncomfortably
“But what of fair cities and shiney new painted buildings?”
She showed me empty sheep, black inside
Braving a torrent for the black painted doornew-beginnings
Somehow I knew it once was red.
Or a red-haired girl, denies her colors
Refuses his expectations, but cannot avoid them,
Drowning in the spring green and yellows10154554_1084713228262460_5924163238596844703_n
And I am with her, breathing water with my last gasp…
It is graffitti’d in the trees, spoken by them
In pale barks, some paths are plainaspens
And though even here, something amazing yet may hatch jinnyn
When you reach the end of the earth, you’d best
Throw that bottle off.  Where had my angel gone?
Jove is watching with that great eye of the stormnew-beginning-at-the-ends-of-the-earth-michaela-sagatova
With a gaggle of devoted little moons
In the bottle was a desert
In the desert was a ship afloat
And in that ship a sea
And in that sea, the moon reflected lemyre.PNG

Inspired by the artwork and prompt at  Clicking the links will bring you to the artist’s web pages, please do that.


13 thoughts on “Reality begins

  1. I bet we choose the same artist and photo, smiles ~ Nothing wrong with escaping via boat, smiles ~ I specially like your ending lines – of the ship floating above the desert ~

    Thanks for joining us ~


  2. I do like the way you closed the poem….evoking the image of a ship in a bottle we see in fun shops sometimes. You really went beyond the obvious here, noting so much more than I could see.


  3. Oh this is wonderful how you weaved these into a tale. I especially loved
    “It is graffitti’d in the trees, spoken by them
    In pale barks, some paths are plain”
    I love the bark of birch trees and aspen….when my husband and I were dating, he sent me a postcard he wrote on a real piece of birch bark from a camping trip he was on! So “graffitti’d in the trees” was our new love 🙂


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