Glistening curtains of rain
hang upon hills of indigo
as moonlight pierces the cloud drift
and decorates the river below.

Lapis, sapphire, orchid, and mauve:
my oaken tower at midnight
where shadows solemnly rove.

Dawn falls over breaking waves
as April whispers a gale.
Forsaken in this dome of stars
April guides my furling sail.

I’ll weave a million threads of stone
and cast the mountains aloft.
I’ll prophesy a million years
in April’s cradle, silky soft.

#writco #WritcoQuote #poetry