The clock struck once at a lost time of quiet
when the world was busy discussing
the cause of the end, the height of a giant,
and a length of a trailing string.

She tapped and she wrought and fumbled to life
a stone that sung in her cognitive silence.
It was perfectly round, glowing soft and then hard;
its sound an orchestra of its fragments.

It leapt up in the air and exploded
with a light like that of the sun.
She wailed with delight at the blindness
‘fore she knew that her time had now come.

In the mess that remained was a quiet
interrupted only by water that flowed.
Then came the shoots of a burgeoning plant
from the magical seeds that she’d sowed.



2 thoughts on “Masterpiece

  1. Lovely. I’m glad I found your blog! Where was this picture taken, if you don’t mind me asking? It reminds me of one of my favorite coastlines in Alaska–on a nice foggy day, of course. Best, Morgan

    Liked by 1 person

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