Carapace

Carapace
who speaks?—carapace
dream landscape
indigo
blue paths going from nowhere
into nowhere else.

A shelter?–
a support?–cosmic
tree growing
up and up
with turtles all the way down
to infinity…

green sea turtle s

Sarah at dVerse asks us to consider the word blue. I did have a dream with a disembodied voice repeating “carapace”, and used it as inspiration for the shells I painted for the Kick-About prompt “Museum Wormarianum”. The dream was saturated in blues.

Both Nina and I have painted and drawn and photographed turtles and tortoises many times at memadtwo. They are wonderful–and need I say? endangered–creatures, believed by some cultures to hold the earth, and all life, on their backs.

And here’s some classic blues performed by the Turtle Island String Quartet.

centermost

become empty—o
pen yourself until the wind
fills you to zero

draw yourself in circles, hold
your essence out, listening

For the final day of NaPoWriMo, the prompt is to write a poem in the form of a series of directions describing how a person should get to a particular place.

Thanks to Maureen Thorson for once again providing a home for poetry and for all those who read and commented on my efforts this April.

Approaching Beltane

What is?
Why not say blue
mirror, say deep well–
Why not say sun
light, say bright fire?

Dancing circles
into braided beginnings,
the meeting of earth and air

Weaving flowers
to welcome back
the missing and missed

Swallowing the past,
planting the future–
doing and being both—

Balancing the between
to expand
in both directions

What is?
Why not say moment
of birth, say the point when
life begins, say spirit,
breath, embodiment?

What is?
Why not say the pivot
of is and is not?

Sarah has given us the inspiration of Beltrane at earthweal this week. Whatever you choose to write about, remember that this is a celebration, of new life, of love and of the endless bounty of this planet.

washed but not cleansed

the day lost–where did it go?  did it depart or disappear?
what summons took it away, left us hanging in empty wind?–
scattering bits of sanity like lost laundry, unflown birds

The prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 20 is to write a sijo.

The only thing I unpacked today after the movers left was the computer. I know I’m behind on reading posts, but will try to catch up in the next week.

bending light

bare branches
so still
they turn to stone

and skip across
the water
rearranging

crosscurrents–
altering
form and function

The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 18 is to “write a poem based on the title of one of the chpaters from Susan G. Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Word“. I chose “bending light”.

how to breathe

The Oracle responded immediately to the NaPoWriMo day 17 prompt of the moon. And who could blame her? It’s always a good subject for a poem, in this case, a Badger’s Hexastitch.

moonsongs
treeroot between
the ancient wanderings
of night—follow secret
animal paths
earth deep

Also linking to earthweal open link weekend.

excavations

only
stillness remained
afterwards—everything
else unearthed, uprooted,
exposed into
absence

A badger’s hexastitch for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday with synonyms for the words provided by Jude: search and lost.

And because I’ve been neglecting the NaPoWriMo prompts recently, a short Skeltonic poem for Day 16.

The sunny day
has gone away–
I want to say
it’s not OK.

It’s been a very showery April so far. Hope that portends a very flowery May.

abiding

If I became
the wind, I would be
breath itself–

no need to swallow
air and turn it
vibrating into sound.

I would be
the universal chord
transformed into stories

that appear suddenly
surrounded
by stars,

carried by
the voices of
cosmic seas.

I would speak
in parallel
with the trees,

listen
as they released
their wisdom

on the wings of
birds, woven
with ancient messages

still wild and waiting
to be translated
into form.

I would be
the light
reflected as sky,

the night’s
dark
mystery.

I would be
every song
all at once,

the portal
into what can’t
be seen.

Do you hear
the whispered
invitation?

It is the unbroken
promise of
the moon’s return,

the painted journey
of the sun hovering
on the horizon,

of the waters
that rock the ages
into safe harbors.

Will you follow?
Stand open
and still

and be
prepared
to fly.

I’ve been working on this poem on and off for awhile. And I may work on it again, but here it is, as of today.

light years

black
hole
rabbit
hole—is it
curiosity
or gravity that pulls us in?

black hole sun s

The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 7 is to write either a shadorma or a Fib poem. I’ve written hundreds of shadormas (see Days 4 and 6 for example), so I decided to try a Fib, inspired by this article I was reading in the NY Science Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/24/science/astronomy-messier-87-black-hole.html

It’s a form that seems especially good for questions.