Once again, the Oracle made me work hard. I did not intend this to accompany the image I did for the Kick-About challenge last week, but I think that, strangely, it works. I’m sure the Oracle is acquainted with the vase-goddess who inspired the collage.
do our secrets listen to the night?
starry-eyed ghosts
opening like sails in wild air
lingering at windows
like haunted skyvoices
wordclouds dancing on oceans of dark
The Oracle really made me work today.
when there is not enough
moonmist for sleep
ask time to be still
let music whisper like light
do not dream shadow language
into the wind
sail like stargardens
of shining sky
* carl jung
Perhaps the rain and windstorm of Christmas Eve is a beginning towards washing away the darkness of 2020. Of course, as the Oracle reminds us, it’s never that simple.
I was pleased to have 3 pieces selected for The Ephrastic Review’s Christmas day post: Weathering, Our Lady of Toil and Trouble, and Mari Lwyd . You can read them here
away from the rain
shadows still ache with light
storms rip together apart
yet sea and sky sing roses
in the mothertongue
of the moon
ask what you want
for the dreams
you need
Also linking to earthweal Open Link Weekend.
The Oracle was firm but hopeful today.
by fire this time—earth
bleeds broken—but not always
we say—hearts will make
magic from the night—how it
listens to fools and what ifs
Once again I’ve gone into my vast art archives.
The Oracle was feeling mellow this morning. I can use some mellow.
This photo was taken out my window of last month’s (nearly) full moon.
here beneath this thick blue
winter world
I watch the murmur
of almost dawn
seeds rooted in the night
tendriling a path through
dark into day
I follow still
spirited full with secrets
breathed by the moon
The Oracle once again inspires questions without answers.
go over
not through the water
but why how
and with what ship?
the moon
swims on wind language
but my tongue
lies seastilled beneath singing
storms
The Oracle is hopeful this morning.
as vast as the ocean
of sky
the universe opens out
into another morning
sailing wild rhythms
of dancing flying laughing
color magic joy
surrounding the sacred starblue
ghosteye
of children and fools
I wanted to reblog my response to an old prompt of Sue Vincent’s in honor of the New Moon this weekend. The Oracle had something to say about it too.
In my original post, I explained my inspiration: I discovered this week that the plural for luna mare (moon sea) is lunar maria …is that wonderful, or what? So when I saw Sue Vincent’s Luna photo prompt, above, I had to incorporate it into my response.
Here’s the poem I wrote for Sue’s photo:
The arc of
lunar mountains, edged
dark with bays
of basalt…
Maria!—your names reflect
as mirrors to fill
with sorrow,
forgetfulness, snakes,
storms and fear.
Can we find
the sea of tranquility
and sail into dreams?
between is and if only
we listen
as earth grows restless
breathing wild ancient song
beneath murmuring leaves
climbing windshine
over rock rooted paths
wandering through the hidden secrets
of the moon’s dark night
And of course this song is still and always appropriate.
You can see 14 other interpretations of “Maria” here.
Also linking to Earthweal Open Link Weekend.
Old art from the archives, fresh words from the Oracle.
could chanting crush
the sad drunk pounding symphony
of death and blood?
mother moon shines music
through the tongues of womin
wind language whispers in dreams
above shadows of lies
asking time to sing together light
Linking to earthweal open link weekend.
I’ve been working on this collage all week, and I asked the Oracle about it.
moon dances
open nevertime
ask air to let nightflower ghosts
bleed spirits like wild dark
star angels
the rhythm of eternity
wakes the secrets of fools–
voices that devour the hauntings
lingering in the icy oceans
of desire
Also linking again to Earthweal’s moondance.
