mandala

into itself

into itself s

winter leaves, overlapping
 with cold wind, rain,
clouds that permeate

each every day
 footsteps too heavy
to follow another

enclosed in lethargy,
 the hours devoid
of song, stagnant

from here to anywhere,
 held in pause–
each day a tunnel

searching for openings–
 starsunmoon
glowing

A quadrille for Lillian at dVerse, using the word glow.

into itself close up 1s

I always like to photograph my art in natural light, but it’s so dark here today, I also did some with the overhead light on.  It gives everything a yellow tone, and doesn’t show the subtle shifts in the color any better.  Maybe they’re too subtle.

 

 

all directions lead to the center

all directions 2s

Like the moon, I am an echo, repeating
 the gravities of my orbit–
anchored inside by both light and dark,
circling me, refacing me

The gravities of my orbit
 give me direction but not location–
circling me, refacing me,
scattering my stardust into the void

Given direction but not location,
 like Janus, I am always between–
scattering my stardust into the void
with no before or after

Like Janus I am always between–
 I am not looking for eternity
with no before or after,
life is always right here and right now

I am not looking for eternity
 to position me in a narrative–
life is always right here and right now–
its beginning and end are unknowable

I am positioned in a narrative
 of patterns I don’t understand–
its beginning and end are unknowable–
I dream of circumvention

Following patterns I don’t understand,
 anchored inside by both light and dark,
I dream of circumvention–
like the moon I am an echo, repeating

all directions 2 close up s

 

My second pantoum for the dVerse theme of echo.

all directions 1 close up s

More art from the archive.  Still going in mystifying circles.

all directions 1s

 

Hologram

hologram 1s

Have you listened to the night sky
 opening yourself wide
to let it echo through you?
Have you tasted the stars?

Opening yourself wide
 have your eyes become mirrors?
Have you tasted the stars,
your veins glowing?

Have your eyes become mirrors
 of infinite silences,
your veins glowing,
drunk with the darkness

of infinite silences?
 Have you been pulled,
drunk with the darkness,
into luminous trajectories ?

Have you been pulled,
 revisiting the returning
of luminous trajectories,
forever somewhere else?

Have you revisited the returning–
 let it echo through you
forever as somewhere else?
have you listened to the night sky?

hologram 1 close up s

This is the first of two similar pantoums I composed for Merril’s dVerse echo theme.  The art is from the archives.

hologram 2 close up s

As you may have noticed, I like the repetition and echoing in the pantoum form, and the way it circles back on itself.  You may have also noticed I often write about the night sky, the stars, and the moon, often assisted by the Oracle.  Merril and Jane, who are also acquainted with the Oracle, told me not to read their poems until I had composed my own, but I’m guessing stars appear in theirs somewhere too.

hologram 2s

Of course stars echo in light!

Illusion

illusion close up s

I saw the sun opening
 the sky—and I thought
you were meant to be
rooted in my breath

I wanted you to be
 the glowing light,
a reflection of colors
echoing the unknown

I thought you were
 the songs of soft radiant
birded air, a melody
surrounding me

I imagined beautiful
 patterns like tattoos,
shapes of the infinite
in your eyes

But you are not
 a mirror of my visions–
I hold a map
to what isn’t there

An apostrophe poem, as prompted by Amaya at dVerse, for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above.  Also strongly influenced by Jane Dougherty’s response to Sue’s photo.

illusion s

weightless

weightless__reaching comp

open the
 sky, wash the air with
colors, sing
the wind far
and over the veiled secrets
hidden and exposed

written in
 the patterns of land,
dancing on
particles
of distilled light, taking all
and then returning

voyagers
 on boundless oceans
flowing be
yond, unfurled,
spinning with spirits, flying–
exploding like stars

I was revising a poem (perhaps posted before–my record-keeping is spotty at best) into shadorma form for Colleen’s #tankaTuesday choice-of-words to go with Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, when Laura’s dVerse poetics prompt appeared, with its list of -less words.  “Boundless” seemed to reflect more the poem’s intent than my original “endless” (and I like the repetition of the b sounds), and there, also, was the title I needed–“weightless”.

weightless__reaching close up comp

And the spirits, if not the Force, still seem to be with me…

I’ve shown the process of my painting–first I did pure color, then I washed it out by running it under the faucet and letting it dry.  I then added some subtle iridescence with a bit more color.

reaching 3s

 

blessing

blessing s

We gather together. We close our eyes, unlearning the darkness.

We are listening to what happens. When we don’t interfere, when we let go, unbe, untry.  When we release our expectations.

We hold everything as if it weighed nothing, as if it could fit into anything at all.

What we are.  Not what we think.  Not what we want.  Not what we fear.

The stillness of grace,
carried by stars on the wings
of birds.  We listen.

For a trio of prompts–Frank asked for thoughts about Thanksgiving in his #haikai challenge this week, and for thoughts about gratitude in his haibun prompt for dVerse.  Colleen  in her #TankaTuesday prompt also referred to the theme of Thanksgiving.

blessing close up s

Thanksgiving at my grandparents’ was loud and chaotic–numerous adults and sometimes 11 children vying for attention.

But we never ate any meal at their house without first becoming quiet and giving thanks.  It’s a ritual that perhaps deserves a revival.