They had collapsed into an empty cave of nowness, replacing a past of empyrean wonder with the unceasing presence of burning flesh, condemning the contagious and aliferous joy of birds to smoke-filled air hanging heavy over stone landscapes that had lost all green. What they called life, the promise of continuity, was at an impasse.
They had forgotten to build an ark.
They had forgotten to build an ark, and so they were left standing between a raging wall of flame and an infestation of endlessly rising waters. A fierce susurrus rose from the spirits of the ancestors–an oddly wordless murmur riding on the howling wind, carrying the silent but distinct rattle of bones.
what happens when where
we were going is gone?–crows
seize the winter sky
For earthweal, where Brendan asked us to fill your poem’s sails with a blast of something akin to the hurl of atmospheric plumes, and dVerse, where Mish has given us a list of uncommon words to incorporate in our poem. I’ve also taken inspiration from Jane’s Oracle 2 wordlist.
K. 
What chilling imagery. Your haiku sent shivers down my spine.
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Thanks Suzanne. The news does that to me every day.
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Riveting. I would say apocalyptic but it is painfully more realistic at this point. This is a powerful write. I love the repetition of “They had forgotten to build an ark”.
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Thanks Mish. Yes, we are beyond the apocalyptic now.
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I love the voices of the ancestors howling on the wind. I’ll bet they are howling, too. Ha, we both thought of arks…….but where would we sail them to? I’m with you on the impact of the news. I become more and more silent.
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There’s nothing left to say. Thanks Sherry.
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That haiku is something else. And the painting too. How could it not be depressing? There is no good news to throw in the balance.
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None.
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This had sn ominous feel Kerfe. Loved the dnding haiku — snd that is the question… where, when where is nowhere?
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It is the question. Thanks Rob.
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Kerfe, you are a Prophetess, an Oracle, here. I feel it will come to pass. May our orendas meet again in the ether when that time comes.
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I’m still hanging on to a thread of hope. But yes, may our orendas always meet.
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❤
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This a warning of what may come to pass. Can an ark save humanity from rising waters? At least a crow has wings and can fly to safer places. If we only had wings.
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If only. Thanks Trudessa.
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Your writing sent me to the dictionary. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered susurrus before, and it relates to murmuration. Lots of sound imagery. Mixed signs in the poem (did you intend this?) — its having a Last Judgment resonance — especially with “empyrean,” synonymous with the Biblical firmament.
I love the image at the top which seems to me as though it should be a Chinese ceramic dish. It’s quite wonderful. In the context of the poem, it can seem ominous with the black crossing lines, but seeing it before reading the poem it struck me as just pure loveliness.
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Kerfe this is magical! I love everything about it – the crows, the ark, the use of the prompt words, the art. It is all beautiful!
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Thanks Muri. I tried to pick words I already knew that seemed to fit together so it didn’t seem too awkward. That ark seems to be on many people’s minds these days…
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I like to think the crows put a spell on humanity with the forgetting disease. A chill and feral fossil footprint for the future to judge.
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Thanks Brendan. In a way it feels like the Judgement has already begun.
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Love the journey, the sounds and that haunting imagery of the crows seizing the winter sky.
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Thanks Grace.
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Three prompts. You rocked it. Love susurros most of all. Thanks for using it. Puts me in a good place. Blessings.
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Thanks Selma. Prompts can often intersect.
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What a powerful write, Kerfe! The last line of the haiku sent a chill down my spine.
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Thanks Punam. Theg news does that to me. (K)
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I think the news should do that to everyone. You are welcome.
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love the images and the writing is exquisite as always. strong medicine.
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Thanks Lindi.
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Eerie, and powerful!
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Thanks!
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This piece and the accompanying artwork is supercharged with dark, apocalyptic energy. The final haiku says it all: and I think the crows might know better how to cope than we do.
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Thanks Ingrid. Crow remembers many things we have forgotten.
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Oh my, Kerfe, these are very frightening words and depictions.
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They are. It’s a frightening time in many ways.
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