I was looking at the High Priestess yesterday, which I have hanging in my office, and thinking about the strange journeys I’m taking in my dreams lately. Of course, the Oracle sees all.
water sings of how
the goddess ship shines
through the seashadow
of the moon
the language of sleep
swims beneath the skin
of time–
recalling mothermusic
in wind-whispered light
My message from the Oracle. It made me think of two collages (based on a painting by Ilya Repin) I did for one of Jane’s long-ago prompts, but when I went searching I could only find one of them.
can you bring stars
to awaken my ghosts
into the eye of morning?
I am longing for magic sails
to open me out from myself
like a window of liquid time
so I can remember how the ocean
became unbroken—a healing breath
reborn—surrounded by salty air
I had a long and complicated dream about Sue Vincent last night. I’m still trying to disentangle and figure it out. But the Oracle always knows what’s on my mind. After I visited Her, I looked for some art I had done for one of Sue’s prompts to accompany it. I knew immediately this was the one to use.
above
the rain do dreams
swim on light? is that how
moon music recalls the language
of sea shadows
singing?
the blue of
darkness is
a blank canvas
from translucent music
comes
the shadow
of hope
moonbird rising
toward
the center of deep
light
The dogs were here first.
You think you own them, but no–
they lead, you follow.
Other dogs, other
people, entangled within
a rocky landscape.
It’s always winter.
You must work hard, struggle
to get anywhere.
Where is it? You no
longer even think you know–
the pull of the leash.
You’re cold and you need to feel–
breath shortens—leaves misty trail.
Ingrid at dVerse asked us to write a poem inspired by a dream, and Sarah’s W3 prompt asked for a poem of 14 lines or less about dreams.
I remembered these sketches I did of a dog–I think it was from a photo Nina sent me of one of her dogs, but I’m not totally certain–and found them in an old sketchbook from the early 1980s. The collage is from one of Jane’s prompts I did in 2016.
I often dream of dogs–I’ve lived with them, but never owned one. Clearly they have a secure place in my mind.
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.
My message this morning from the Oracle. I spend a lot of time thinking about the meanings of words.
the language of time
whispers here and there
like a shadow cast by wind
if after could be seen
as clearly as never
but why is like a dream
playing by moonlight
singing on ships of mist
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.
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
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
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?
K. 