The Possible
The secret, he had said,
was harmony—sun follows night—
but without her, all was shade
and flowers withered.
After, he recalled the thousand days
when shadows called, and the not-Moon
was deep purple, the color of still-mourning,
rust-storms wept
tears of blood, and language was swept away.
Till one day, dawn came,
the air was honey-scented
and filled with song,
and the light—it whispered,
what if beauty simply is?
The Oracle gave me another Orpheus poem. It seems right for this time of year.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
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Thank you, Michael!
A very impressive last resulting sentence. Thanks for sharing, Merril! Enjoy your weekend! May the light always be with you! xx Michael
Thank you so much for your kind words, Michael!
And with you! 💙
What a lovely poem! It all hangs together, and yes, just right for this time of year. We both had those shadows, tricks of the light. And your poem ends with a new day.
Thank you very much!
This one came very quickly from the Oracle. Not all at once, but quickly.
Yes, we both did have those things. 🙂
Maybe we’re just getting better at listening to her 🙂
Could be. I wasn’t in a rush. . .
🙂
I think change is the theme of both our poems, but the tones are very different. I love the whispered light of the dawn. (K)
Yes, we both do have change.
Thank you!
This is just beautiful, Merril. And yes! Definitely fits for this time of year!
Thank you so much, Dale!
My pleasure.
This is so gorgeous and evocative of the myth, Merril!
Thank you ver much, Ingrid! I’m so pleased you think so! 😊
Entrancing! 🍁🍂🍁
Thank you, Gwen. 😊
Oh, yes. It simply is
Thank you very much, Derrick. 💙
Brilliant!
Words to keep in heart! Thank you, Merril!
Thank you so much, Resa! 💙