The Spectrums
Of transparency.
Out there where the air is rare
and filters through refraction
diaphanous sweet and spare
spells our interaction.
The spectrums of transparency
there’s more than meets the eye
times when we’re translucent
a teardrop from your eye.
Like a flight in the night
swinging through the air
and because and in spite
we open when we dare.
The colours of the rainbow
seen in a drop of rain
the magic moon’s translucent glow
the pleasure and the pain.
Opening like a flower
we share another day
and like a summer shower
frolic and we play.
Ups and downs, smiles, and frowns
the good, bad, and in-between
sonorous and soulful sounds
the smooth and the serene.
Caught inside a catalyst
there burns a flight of fire
the sparkle of an amethyst
passion and desire.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
I’m only flesh and blood
translucent and that’s not all
You are a flower about to bud.
©
David Rudder
2023
Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry. Click below to Join Medium for more great poetry and stories.