Imagine a window
in a wall that is constructed
of fear and superstition
Imagine an open window–
it does not exist because
no one has built a wall for it
bloomings that subsist only
in the invisible world of the window
growing in the unseen air,
releasing the imprisoned breath
Imagine a window,
a portal to what isn’t there–
a borderless unceilinged sky
Laura at dVerse asks us to make some room. And Sherry at earthweal asks us to consider all that is wrong with the world and how we can make things right. As John Lennon knew, our ability to change is often just a failure of our imagination.
I thought the birdlings were appropriate to these words. And the window is an old collage based on the work of Miriam Schapiro, who knew a thing or two about both portals and collage.
A message from the Oracle inspired by Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.
It seemed to call for an appearance by the birdlings.
sails the ghosts of star angels
born into the breath
of winged trees
oceans flying on air
sky opening itself
like some foolish heart
I visited the Geek Oracle for a change of pace, and the birdlings seemed once again appropriate to the message.
open this world
this network through which we
light names each star
while galactic flames stream
out of the living source
what do you want?
My poem “Hallowed Be” is among the responses to Goya’s “El Conjuro” posted today at The Ekphrastic Review.
As it’s Draw a Bird Day, I’ve enlisted the newly returned birdlings for my collage response (along with some actual birds and the moon).
You can see Goya’s painting and read my poem, and all the other responses, here. My thanks to editor Lorette Luzajic for once again including my work in this bi-weekly challenge
The Oracle gave me birds today. I’ve resurrected the birdlings to accompany the words. I don’t know where the real birdlings are in my disorganized office, but I have photos of their past adventures. I used this for one of Jane Daugherty’s Yeats prompts a couple years ago.
The blue jays have been drowning everyone out all summer on my street, but recently a crow has been trading barbs with them.
crow and blue jay
ferociously awake morning–
linger like steel dazzled glass
remember who you are–
a fool for wild voices,
sailing a secret ocean
of star fever dancing
Keeping the Secret Keeper, whose words I used for Jane’s prompt, in my thoughts too.