My message today from the Oracle. I’ve been thinking a lot about time. It gets more confusing every day.
each moment is filled
with more asking
if never comes,
will we find out
where we belong?
in dreams
spirit dances between
language and music–
stars growing wings
inside your heart
The Oracle also seems attuned to the collage book I’ve been working on lately.
I am floating face down in a horizonless body of water. My eyes are open; I seem to be balanced in the center of a giant labyrinthine sphere. Like an octopus, or a circular net with ends stretching down, down, beyond all comprehension. Somehow I can breathe.
All the rootpaths below me are in constant motion. I dive between, in the unfixed spaces that surround them. I sense that they are hollow, that they lead somewhere, but I can’t locate the wormhole. The orb turns, whorling, gathering me into its patterned dance.
I am nowhere in space in time. I sit thousands of feet above the sea, star-covered, as I swim inside the ocean’s womb. I don’t understand how to locate myself, how to divide the illusions until they reach zero. The still point of what is and is not. There. Here? Both. And…
Merril provided this quote from May Sarton this week for dVerse prosery: “In space in time I sit thousands of feet above the sea” But as she pointed out, my prose is too much like poetry to really be prosery. I had a couple requests to leave the post up anyway, so I decided to put it back up.
The Oracle provided an antidote to another gloomy rain-snowy day
we are born
listening without words
to rhythms we cannot see
the voice of the universe is magic–
a long embrace
sailing on a wild eternity
of windows–
always opening to reveal
a star-dazzled sky
I pause on the edge of dark, on the edge of light, my direction halted by uncertainty. Between is a narrow ledge, a threshold balanced on an abyss. Am I coming or going? The end is also the beginning and all my questions are merely maps without roads.
I have become abstracted by an imagined journey in which seeking transforms into finding. In which the visions that ripple my consciousness turn out to be real. But what if matter is as transient as thought?
half-awake, spirit
splits, expands—crescent-mirrored
into cosmic tides
Frank at dVerse asks us to write a haibun referring to the Mezza Luna, the half or crescent moon. When I was looking for art for the post, I came across the collage at the top, which I used for another of Frank’s moon prompts a year ago.
I am always photographing the moon, so I had plenty of photos to choose from as well. The mirror effect in the first photo is caused by the window through which I shot the photo.
Another enigmatic message from the Oracle. But she always wants us to remember to let others know that they are not alone.
let time make a world
out of stars
listen as if wings
were opening to receive
the music of skyrivers
dreaming through your heart
fill each song
with between and always
here–
take my hand
My message this morning from the Oracle. My dream last night included lots of children–laughing, singing, and telling each other stories.
when the universe was young
born from color
and rhythm-kissed voices
singing open with ferocious joy
sacred fools danced into always
flying like cloud ghosts
dazzled with star magic
who lost the way to eternity
the secrets of sailing ocean skies
the heartbreath of how we are?
I visited the Oracle as usual early this morning, and her words so much reminded me of the NASA photos of Jupiter I saw recently that I did something I haven’t done in a very long time–I painted a piece of art especially for her words, rather than searching through my archives. It’s still wet, so the colors may change when it dries, and it doesn’t exactly resemble Jupiter, but it’s the spirit more than the exact image that I wanted to capture.
The cosmos is endlessly and unbelievably beautiful, despite the havoc humans may be imposing on our tiny and insignificant blue planet. A little perspective does the psyche good.
born in the blush
between air and breath
like laughter dancing naked
over oceans of ferocious life
the voice of the universe
embraces the holes
in our foolish desires
sailing them open
into a vast sky of magic nights
surrounded by dazzling stars
The sea gathers me in, keeps me between, a creature of neither water nor land, held forever inside spirals of moontides, echoing back into what is neither mine nor self.
Around and around the waves spin me along the path of an immense Möbius loop. I oscillate on the edge, barely there, beyond human sensing.
Deeper, extended, enhanced. I am in need of rendering. I am in need of being opened until the stars wrap around my core, untill all of me is whispered into music like light.
I absorb the flickering of images—felt but unseen, channeled within each breath, ungraspable. Always this interpolation, this blurring of what lies beyond as it merges into the finity of my body. Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings me into the place where my boundaries fall into the cosmic abyss.
For the dVerse prosery where Lisa has given us a quote from Oliver Wendell Holmes:
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:—
–from The Chambered Nautilus
The art is courtesy of various prompts from the Kick-About.
The Oracle knows where to look and how to listen.
we are all sailing
the same starry skies
in ghostflower oceans of eternity
ask how breath heals
the broken rhythm of the heart
remember to listen
to the foolish magic of children
lingering in this long night–
as if life is born again
dancing awake each morning
secretly you hold the cosmos
as if
it were a newborn child–
you are
overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude the latitude the longitude–
seamless
in its capacity to expand and carry
your bones
inside your body at the intersection of all dark,
all light
The prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 11 is to write a poem about a very large thing. I’ve used the waltmarie form with the subject of healing, prompt 12 from Muri’s April Scavenger hunt. I love the way this form illuminates itself with its interior verse.
K. 