Black is the paint that covers night

Where crops won’t grow

Nor harvest sown

But there Aurora fully blooms,

Dancing where shine constellations’ plume

Curling, swirling across the moon

Like a living, magic fume

Worshiping the midnight suns

When night and day mix as one.

Black is the space in-between

In the heavens of which we dream

To travel to in great cosmic galleons

Because Black is the universe’s greatest ocean.


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5 thoughts on “Black

  1. Beautiful poem! I’m hoping i can get to Scandinavia this winter to see the aurora. Growing up we used to see the northern lights in Minnesota, but only the green and not all of the vibrant colors.


      1. We’ll pick up around 9:00 pm EST. Does that work? lol They are definitely something that you should see. There are many trips to Iceland and Scandinavia specifically designed around the Northern Lights.


      2. Yeah, the problem is that I have no income as my country thinks that I am useless! It is all topsy turvy here. The problem wasn’t so much foot and mouth, more Toe and knee, and something that sounds like Mare! The repercussions will last centuries. I’d write a poem about it, but freedom of speech prevents me…. like I said, here it’s topsy turvy! 😀

        Liked by 1 person

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