October

The Oracle is feeling the chill in the air. This morning is grey and cooler than recent days.

The collage is another piece of art I found while cleaning. Painted and ripped rice paper–I guess I didn’t like the original watercolors. I don’t remember it at all.

wind rustles secrets through trees–
how my roots long for
a blanket with leaves seeded
by a moon garden

every season asks us why
we follow the same
path of lonely wandering
instead of singing

autumn wind

The Oracle is in a dreamy mood today. It feels very much like my dreams last night–I journeyed with some children through a series of untamed landscapes. The details are hazy, but the atmosphere lingers.

be ocean’s naked desire
born flying with fish
like no one’s fool    sailing
over night    dancing
the dazzled morning open
like a newborn eye
listening to time’s rhythm
devouring each breath

Twenty Years

I had written my own poem earlier in the week, but since the anniversary of 9/11 is on a Saturday, I also consulted the Oracle. We are both feeling the shadows and the ache.

ghosted, these
ruins—shadows left
imprinted
on this day–
each returning resurrects
the ache of absence

beneath blue skies
death shows up
raining red

the day lives raw
our dreams ache
with rust and blood

language is shadowed
as if love
will never be recalled

music whispers
on the wind
through still light

unrest

Another mostly sleepless night. But the Oracle sees beauty in those hours too. And how else would I have seen the sliver of the moon?

And look closely on the right–there’s Saturn too.

who is this self
sailing slowly through the dark

always away

blue with haunted oceans
flying from the ghosts of time

breathless as the dance
of skyholes
lingering in starfire
awakening the open eyes
of this goodnight