Spinning Away

red moon

Spinning Away


The sky cracked open

and I spun away

with whirling lights in my head.


The great bird beneath me

opened its wings

and flapped from

one fantastic place to another.


Moons sang and suns

danced in one wild, weird place,

while delicate frost touched trees

of rainbow hues in another.


The black bird opened its orange beak

and sang us onwards

until we came to a frozen lake.

Silver children skated its

myriad-coloured surface

and butterflies of sparkling ice sang:

‘’Isn’t this nice.

Isn’t this nice.’’


We journeyed on past planets

of indescribable blue

and shot up a waterfall

that roared and rushed into

valleys vast and mysteriously deep.


We came to a full, red moon

that was spinning and jigging to its own

private tune.

It smiled at the black bird and

waved at me before floating away

over a long, green stream

of ribboning bubbles and delicate spray.


Finally, the air turned wonderfully warm

while a billion waltzing stars

catapulted in exotic, endless display.


Then, down, down we planed

in a golden moment that

jetted us over a gleaming sea.

‘’Home again. Home again,’’

the black bird sang with me.


I was now on soft beach sand.

I turned around once and the bird

was gone, flying on to I know not where.

I lay down on the fine, fine sand and

held onto memory after mad, marvellous memory

as one wild moon after another

looked down and winked at me.


© Andrew Pender-Smith

 

4 thoughts on “Spinning Away

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