For Paul Brookes’ Special January Ekphrastic Challenge, Day Eighteen, I’ve responded to all three works. This was a difficult one for me.
The Future not Preordained
The cities flame, glass ceilings shatter,
and people scatter into the ever after–
violet, yellow, rose-petal pink,
the gleams bounce from steel beams, then stream
through the streets
where the red Madonna flies, sighs to rise
from the turquoise and the sandy brown,
her hair aglow under moon-antler crown—
she sees the past and future, the sight, the sound
of all around,
what might, what could be—
a sea of lapis-wings, flutters, and stings—
what might they bring?
Nightmares built from midnight fright—
or twinkling diamonds of the night.
Darkness ever-present–and the light.