


The Oracle, as usual, sees both sides, and aligns herself with the moon.

the storm whispers
beneath language raining
a symphony of raw shadows
no no the moon sings
stop crushing my ship
with your bitter mad lust
for death
retongue your music with seawinds
swimming skylight into gardens
of mothering life

‘retongue your music with seawinds’
Such a beautiful command!
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And so we must obey.
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Why wouldn’t we? We obey a lot of ridiculous orders unconsciously already.
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All the time.
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this was my favorite line too! ❤
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Lovely words of art and art of words.
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Thanks Manja.
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I love “retongue your music with seawinds”
It has a mythic feel that would go with my poem.
As usual, yours, mine, and Jane’s seem parts of a whole.
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Thanks Merril. That is true. We get her message in our own ways.
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Yes, we do, but they all seem to go together.
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If the moon could talk, I would imagine it speaking just like this 🌝 so lovely to see a full moon in a clear blue sky this morning!
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Thanks Ingrid. I was surprised to see it the other morning myself. Unfortunately it’s been cloudy every morning since.
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delightful words and art, I’m particularly attracted to the first one 🙂
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Thanks Kate.
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