When Blue Breaks through the clouds in pools of relief from solid monotone grey-white of January skies, my heart sighs, rejoicing in reprieve. Oppressive grey covered all like a silencer, muffling. Blue breaking through brings a melody of gratitude. A feeling that yes, what’s essential and true presents itself clear; crystal; beyond hazy daze of cover-up. Blue breaks through, sharp as a thorn jutting from a vine; blue as a fallen icicle piercing the snow. Its shadow, where it lands, arrowing the way to go; freeing up possibility; cracking open a lane for discovery of what to do.
Marjorie Moorhead writes from northern New England. Happy to have found the language and community of poetry, her work addresses environment, survival, relationship. The author of two chapbooks, and a forthcoming collection, included in nine anthologies, and many literary sites, much of Marjorie’s work can be seen here: