A visit to the Oracle which probably fits the GloPoWriMo theme of dreams too. The painting (naturally) is by Odilon Redon again.
Broken are the good
though they were flawless as marble
they sail now among the slow stars. I
s s s
see their yellow-prowed ships
in the meadow among the flowers.
Is life only because death?
Between dawn and dusk
what does the waking rhythm say
words music or the digging of dark holes?
Is is is
this their time then the leaving
with trails of memories in their wake
a phosphorescent stream?
I touch the pale echo of their passing
caught in buttercup petals
and I hear in the golden bee-touched bowls
the fierce song of the universe.