How does one come to believe in the moon?
What it actually is, I mean; not what it appears
to be. It is not a lantern, held up in the sky
by some invisible god. It is not an illuminated,
disembodied head, floating in the ether.
And Saturn, with its glowing, colored rings.
You pull back from the lens, startled, dis-
believing. You look around you at what is real,
what can be touched, what can be believed in.
And fog, what is that? Only water, they tell me,
mere vapor. Thick, cushioned, its own universe.
And there you are, within it. Alone. Sound moves
toward, away from you. The very air has become
visible, it touches your face, it wraps itself around
your solid body. In this blind universe, what are you?
This week's prompt: The Magician
Some Rights Reserved
she that walks around with her head in the clouds.....
very nicely done....
Posted by: paisley | 16 January 2008 at 10:16 PM
It's magical! Nicely done...
Posted by: Tumblewords | 16 January 2008 at 10:31 PM
The Magician! vwd
Posted by: aLAN | 17 January 2008 at 04:13 AM
I read this through three or four times. Your words enchant as does that picture. And that first line - this is such a fine post!
Posted by: pauline | 17 January 2008 at 05:06 AM
Very well done...
Posted by: gautami tripathy | 17 January 2008 at 08:26 AM
Oh, this made me think! I like that! Beautiful descriptions!
Posted by: Linda Jacobs | 17 January 2008 at 05:29 PM