Aqua

the skies were aqua in winter too; they gleamed
and the snows tinged with pink with
lavender even, beveled; how can this be

my Spring wondered aloud

wandered, careful of her ribbons, her lost clouds where
rippled the aurora borealis everywhere
one season mirroring another unexpectedly

into the Living Stream
God dreamed.
and it was so.

mary angela douglas 2 january 2016