When Rainbows Clash

Your poems are always very creative while being wrapped within magical words.
Beautifully expressed.

all the best and take care

A delicate poem full of grace and beauty in the center of sadness

Such an elegant piece.... with a beautiful flow and the imagery is very nice~

The opening stanza sets the scene of the writer's mood and it takes the reader through all the thoughts as well as the emotions the writer is feeling.

Whistle,
whisper,
whimper,
aroma of emptiness
crouched on
old sunken gravel.

I really liked this stanza has it really draws a picture of memories which is now empty. Nicely penned .

Across the moss stitched bridge
clash thousand rainbows,
scattering blinding,
skewed reflection.

^ I like how you've mentioned "moss stitched bridge", even though the appearance of moss extending over a small distance would appear like a green carpet. So, this part in particular indicates creativity. As a reader one has to give the author the benefit of doubt, so heres my interpretation of the particular part. The bridge could actually be held together figuratively, by the hands/population of moss, thus stitched together. Or the bridge has ruptured over a span of time and the spread of moss over different areas of the bridge seem to have stitched it together.

Anyways, the line basically means that the bridge is old yet beautiful to the author, and probably associated to him/her in the form of memories.

The rest of the stanza speaks of a thousand rainbows clashing, and scattering unguided in multiple directions, while reflecting twisted colors.

Hmm. .it feels like, the rainbows represent dreams or aspirations shattering.

Underneath - sighs,
silent stream,
catching frozen memories
one by one,

^ This stanza is pretty self explained so I wont elaborate.

chalice of reminiscence,
quench
parched desires,

^ A chalice or goblet/cup, of past events, quench or satisfy the thirsty/dried out desires.

Whistle,
whisper,
whimper,
aroma of emptiness
crouched on
old sunken gravel.

^ Whistle and they whisper and make low feeble noises, the aroma of emptiness - The distinctive scent of emptiness settled over an old pounded stone.

I still dream of miracles
a promenade - maybe,
down the mulberry road,
across this moss stitched bridge.

^ The author still dreams of miracles as a paved walk along the ends of a mulberry road across the moss ladened bridged.

I personally love the use of the mulberry road, brings about the charm of the author being busy in day to day life, trying his/her best to find time to visit old familiar places and revive dreams and aspirations before being pulled into the haywire life. The author here, has a child like heart that wants to relive the days of childhood. But I could be wrong with my interpretation.

Very well written.