the threads in her head

Portraits of the Sky-

1.

Early morning, sky a glowy blue. Greys gathered into one big mass, yet the blue glow was stronger than the grey, tinted it so it became a cold blue steel grey. Then there was lightning, and the sky was pure pure brilliant white for a moment. Then thunder rumbled, like the sound of a flick of a sharp whip - what things were going on up there in the celestial realms? But, even as time was spent wondering, the skies had changed in nature, the blue glow dissipated, the same lines filled in with different colours - the sky now a light ghost grey, the clouds slight darker shades and hues of grey, lightning was a streak of white, while the colourless breeze stirred up the hems of skirts and pants alike. A lesson in black and white it was, taught by the great artist Himself.

2.

Out on the open seas, the open seas, with so many possibilities. Bluish gren seas, bluish grey skies, the sun's face slowly hiding away from me. It had been bright bright bright for that one moment, whiter than white, pure sheer light, but gradually clouds swirled round and round, crowds of water vapour, billions of water vapour, coming to obscure and divert the rays of the sun. And though I had turned my head away at the first glance, slowly I could turn back, and look at it. And the only sign of it still there was the whiteness of clouds, but yet lost it would be to those who saw not earlier the gradual eclipse of the sun. And suddenly the world seemed so big, and I so small, the seas stretched out, and away... Vast waters with a myriad of life, but unseen to my eyes. Only the lone birds high up in the sky, circling, round and round, and the scarce few trees, looking like Chrismas trees, in a hot snowless land, so so bare. Mismatched, misplaced, unseen.

3.

Smooth expanse of blue glass, or maybe it's tinted cellophane - like those small students used to wrap around unwieldy wire and paper in primary school come every mid-autumn festival; their very down own hand-made, home-done lanterns. And so this was one big lantern, with every-changing colours, and we're the cut-outs, moving cut-out, 3-dimensional figures moving, walking, running, spinning. A mass of cutouts, 6+billion figures, a tapestry of movements. How do the shadows, the interplay between light and movements look like from out there? What does He, He with his telescopic and microscopic eyes, see when he zooms in and out, bring up and focus on that one lone figure among 4 million people, on so many lone figures at the same time, all the 6billion lone figures that span across the islands and continents? Under the same great expanse of cellophane, there's gunshots and bloodshot eyes, black eyes and dark moods - then there's friendship and love, trust and joy. So silly, so lost, so misguided, so loved.

4.

Clear skies, a multitude of stars. How many of my thoughts had I already scribbled out through the skies, how much nuances of my feelings and thoughts did it already hold and helped conveyed? Uncountable, uncountable, as many as the stars. Wishes and dream hoped upon the bright luminous moons and the twinkling stars, aspirations thrown out to the lofty sun, grand thoughts hurled up into the sky, and rain, rain carrying my sorrows and pains, wind gently caressing my face.