hope. see only green
Select the current sky. Hem the edges with your mind, troubling the clouds you push aside to include only the bright blue. Inside you find shadow, which puzzles you. The only victory here is to contain its swallowing expansion. To stop it is impossible and necessary. Worrying hands climb across the dimmed moments of memory exposed and projected behind closed eyes. The atmosphere mirrors your mind, and you shudder and cry. What is before you but a muddied canopy of sleep and tears? The blue and fluffy-white of childhood skies torn from you, emerging now in quiet distance. Wondering about the color of your sky, I shut my eyes. You whisper nearness to me, and I see only green. The grass of my sky creeps across fingertips and stains them awake. You must try to understand, it murmurs, a blade caressing my ear like a tongue. If you walk across me, the earth will open up and let you in. A place where the sky never lies.