I ask the Oracle about dreams

I’ve been having vivid and strange dreams this week amidst restless sleep. The moon keeps me company.

sacred fools are neither
god nor angel
not secret not magic

open to joy

they remember the rhythms
of the vast universe–
how to dance like stars
flying wild inside the sky

if you listen to breath being born
you can awaken voices

air singing oceans through trees
healing the holes
in the broken heart of night

The Oracle knows all about the moon, fools, dreams, and night.

The Melting of Time

Snowfall.  Night.
The shore is distant.
I dream of
flying—but
I remain enclosed within
ice blue, glittering.

North seems far–
where I am has no
direction.
The landscape
retreats until almost all
is trapped within dreams.

Barren seas
echo with silence.
The world cracks.
Wind weeps in
side chasms of solitude–
the melting of time.

Sherry’s heartbreaking photo, above, that accompanied her prompt at earthweal to talk about the connections between life and the melting ice of the arctic, inspired the dreamscape of my shadorma chain, written also for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, where Jules selected shadorma as this month’s form.

breathing

I woke up this morning thinking of Sue Vincent. The words the Oracle gave me reflect that. She must have been in my dream, although all I remember is the ending which had snow and bright yellow dogs.

The art I was drawn to when looking through the archives for something to illustrate the words was also done for Sue’s prompts.

almost like light
this dusky song
a gentle color

of secret sound
murmured by roots and rain

how to follow
through beneath beside

ask the ancient path
to walk with you

almost

The first part of this one went quickly, but the Oracle made me work for the last 2 lines. Only when I decided to see if I could make the word “illusions” would She let me complete it. “Life is but a dream” or so they say.

sleep whispers
in tongues of blue mist–
as if moons
seadream light
though shadows above still water–
illusions of time

to sail or to swim

The Oracle begins the year for me with questions–not a surprise. My dreams have been vivid of late.

I did a series of these small circle collages for NaPoWriMo 2017. They continue to resonate .

ask the wind if the moon cries
when dreams are lost
in stilled seas

can the sky sing life back
with blue light?

will we be who we are
as time blows the ship of sleep
from here to there?