I consulted the Oracle this morning while thinking about Colleen’s #TankaTuesday theme chosen by Merril, immortality. I was surprised when I went to post it how it follows the Oracle’s message from last week–beyond to the great beyond. Although I am consumed, one might even say overwhelmed, by my moving tasks, as long as my computer is still assembled I will continue speaking with the Oracle on Saturdays.
black as death we say—but what lies whispering like wind like skyshadow singing through blue lightdreams and still seas?
remember the rhythm dancing dazzled with starsisters– embrace the open window– vast secrets flying
KL Caley is continuing Sue Vincent’s #writephoto, beginning with Sue’s original photo, below. I came to Sue’s photo prompts later, so this is my first response to the image. It being Saturday, after I painted my watercolors, I asked the Oracle to help with my poem. We know she has Sue on her mind, as all of us who have been touched by her do.
come through this between wind shaded in green light
breathe deep the spirit earth beneath stonesongs of pure listening
1 Did you know? Was it you who sent Crow? Black wings swallowed by the sky—
2 I had time and seasons rising to meet me like trembling in my bones,
3 like Icarus ascending on beautiful foolish arms.
4 Crow and I are not one– but we are together in this cosmos, on this earth.
5 I do not know myself and yet I know of the intersections of that unknown self with the call to attention that is Crow.
6 My mind is busy with trivial things. The shadow of a cry spills everything out empty waiting for the return of listening, watching.
7 O ragged soul— why do you take flight? Do you not see the trees? They are returning from the dead again and again.
8 I know many words and the images that accompany them. But I know too that Crow lives deeper and wider than what I know.
9 Diving diving diving diving. There is no bottom no top no inside or out.
10 At the sight of Crow resounding the light the layers reveal their chorded songs.
11 I walk these streets in oblivion, trying to escape the fear of the known by making up stories that rearrange my life.
12 I hear my fate turn turn turn— how many crows?
13 Always standing in the doorway like Janus—neither and both– cursed and charmed— Crow laughs—he knows I have a dream to fly.
Brendan at earthweal asks us this week to think about the nature of poetry. I first encountered Wallace Stevens and “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” in high school and it remains my poetic touchpoint more than 50 years later. But equally important to my connection with poetry was music–first, traditional folk music, and then the whole crop of singer-songwriters that emerged from the folk revival. I love Joni Mitchell’s “Blue”, but “Hejira” has always resonated with me most of all. The form of this poem is based on Stevens, but the spirit and italicized words are taken from Joni and from my own encounters with Crow, a master shaman.
I have not been posting much, and will probably be mostly absent for the next month or 6 weeks–I’m moving (again). But this is good news! I will have a dedicated work space once again, and a real kitchen. I knew the last 2 moves were temporary, but I thought both moves before that would be the last one–so I’m making no predictions. But I’m planning to be there for awhile.
Uneasy. Have you sinned? Did Pandora pull you from the box holding your dreams? Did you flee after filling your mind with the fruits of Eve?
Go naturally. Sing the madwoman, the sorceress, the witch of becoming, Our Lady of the Moon Eclipsing the Sun. Sing terrible and trembling, elusive and out of control.
Time is near. Still living in a paradise of fools. Still living in a valley full of the shadows of fallen angels. The Devil is still hungry. The Devil is still sweet.
Way down there. Meet fire with broken wings, broken heart, broken promises. Tangle time up and lay time down. Wash the sky, the water, the land, the air. Stand on the brown earth with dreams and a white dove.
No chains. Going to the moon dock going to the luna tick tock with medicine in my hand going to visit Our Lady of the Holy Woman the Holy Golden Wager. Footslipping off the cliff out the window got blinds drawn all over me.
Freedom. Under the boardwalk. Up on the roof.
A daily blessing: ride the fury of the soul– sing the glory road.
Ingrid at Experiments in Fiction asked us to post something for International Women’s Day, today, March 8. I wrote this poem, first published in Formidable Woman in 2018, using the music of Laura Nyro as inspiration.. This year’s theme is #ChooseToChallenge. And so she did, and her words continue to resonate.
Another elemental message from the Oracle. When I was looking for art to accompany it, I came across Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, below, and the paintings I did in response. A perfect match. Sue’s photos always have their own elemental messages, but this one seemed to have been taken just for the Oracle’s words.
how does path wander through spirit
ask deep earth
follow spring grow with ancient wild
walk between windsong and forest
full green light
You can see the original post, also a message from the Oracle, here.
the geography of water parallels and reconfigures the complexity of the heart– light, a fissured mirror, reflects memories in recurrent waves– the complexity of the heart parallels and reconfigures the geography of water
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday poet’s choice this week I’ve written an octo poem which is a revision of a poem I published four years ago for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, spring, above. You can see the original post here (a shadorma, of course). What’s interesting to me is how wildly different my painting is from the photo.
Also, though I like the way this painting looks, I never followed up and did any more with the idea. I need my gouache which is in storage, but it’s got me thinking. Perhaps to be continued.
Fractals can’t be measured in traditional ways. And so it is with springs, memories, and hearts.