Silver Beads

Time is raining down in silver droplets,
Beads of mercury-
Dripping. . .
Pearlescent orbs that swell
and slip like oily tears
To splash upon the worlds,
And scatter in a thousand pieces-
That draw together,
Each another drop,
Another dimension,
That rolls onward ceaselessly…
From the warm dark of oblivion,
A spark travels toward the overwhelming light
A breath so sharp,
It cracks the silence;
Like a delicate china cup,
That smashed to the floor
So only a single rose
Lay unscathed…
Green garden,
Crisp scent of rain,
Approaching in the sky,
Cut grass suspended in the air -
Gossamer threads of spider web,
Blown away with dandelion fluff -
Growing in steel bucket,
Upturned…
Fragile paper swords,
Brush hairline cracks
In the glass heart -
Pulsing crimson ribbons
Beating, singing, deep down…
Smudged fingerprints on glass,
Turn lines into ripples,
Fading at the edges,
Like acid,
Slowly eating marble chips and stone…
Writhing smoke,
Ship sinks under clouds
That cover a murky bog,
Sighing whispers…
Transparent wings cast an inky shadow…
Silver beads roll across the floor.

-By Tasha Greenwood
Age 16