A RAINBOW OF QUESTIONS BY FIONA CUMMINGS

A RAINBOW OF QUESTIONS

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

 

Look at the stars

 Wrapped in a blanket of cobalt

As the moon keeps a watch out

On Mother earth

So what came first?

Who gave birth?

I pointed to an open space

With my cold pink finger

What’s beyond that daunting place

I would ask my Mother

Did the moon have a face?

Could I wish upon a star?

Why couldn’t I climb to the clouds?

Were they really that far?

I wanted to run

And hug the sun

So much fun

Was out of reach

And why?

For what reason?

Different shades

Depends on the season

Known as the sky

Navy nights

And turquoise delights

Orange afternoons

Hazy grey days

Fluffy cotton balls

Floating like balloons

Mainly silent

No sound, no tunes

Sometimes violent

Thunderstorms

Lightning

Quite frightening

Mother would say

God is moving furniture today

I would ask, God? Who is he?

She would say

We are all   his family

So why don’t we see him?

Is he fat, or thin?

Tall short

Why is he hiding

On the carpet of heaven

Through layers of seven

Where is the pot of gold?

I was told

At the end of the rainbow

How do you know?

Who painted the sky?

I wondered why

Always the arch shape

Where did they get their paint?

Too many questions

Not enough answers

I would have to wait

For what, I would ask

I guess as a child

My words were a task

Now as an adult, I still wonder

Rain, snow and thunder

Scientifically I’m informed

But before my eyes

The sky will always perform

From dusk till dawn

Sky art will go on

 

 

Copyright Fiona Cummings 2015