Manitoban Literature Competition poetry runner-up

Graphic by Bram Keast

So simply we slip from the sky

So fast can this plane, of friction and flame

Vanquish us into vapour

Not eviscerated, but evapourated

Back to whence we came

Cloud nine runs parallel to the ninth ring of Hell


But for a while we freely fall

Plunging to uncertainty

Beautifully, devastatingly free


In flight we catch nothing but light

Reflecting prismatic iridescence so bright

Plummeting gems tumble from space

A small splash on Earth, without a trace of grace

But there the tale does not end


We pool and we puddle, we gather and grow

We stream between dreams, in rivers we flow

Combined our shimmer shines a thousand fold

We dance in the summer and wait out the cold

Though by design, through turmoil or time

Back to the sky, we all make the climb


But still the tale does not end


We, the diamond sea

We, the crystalline clouds

We, the omnipresent ocean

We, divine and damned and drowned