One Hundred Crystal Balls

Stand still–
for this moment, you are
blind in peacock feather
eyes. You are doused in
crystals, beaded in
fortunes too new

to be told–

stand still.

Stand still–
for this moment, you have
drained mosaic windows
of their prophecies in
every temple, they are
bleached with the light
of your will.

Devoted to your flight,
even when still because
you are still.
You are waiting.
You are destiny,
                               motionless.
You colour our providence
pigmented by prospects
that blister through dew
faucets, figments of fate
like droplets and when

you fly,

we drink purpose.

So stand still
before I realize
I am worthless.

* 30+ line poem prompted by a random photo for class…

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Poetry 101, Prompted Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to One Hundred Crystal Balls

  1. tt4r says:

    Love it and the picture. It’s only in the telling that there’s meaning for us. We’re not used to stopping. And the profundity after all that catches up.

    Like

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