aquatic

aquatic comp

aquatic magnetic s

The Oracle gave me another delirious vision.  With moons of course.  The sun shadowing on my floor when I went to take the photos of my mandala added another dimension.

aquatic close up s

sleep away stormy seas–
beneath dreams whisper moons
shining bare like the winds
of roses blown into blue mist

where is the purple lake
of shadow sky?

show me the language of water
swimming through light

 

indigenous

indigenous comp

I am nowhere indigenous.  Born in the midwestern United States, I have moved through many other regions.  My genetics are blended and confused, my blood relations scattered.  Even within the city I have called home for 45 years I belong to no single neighborhood.  No land or culture claims me as their own.

accumulating
roots of tangled earth and air
unfixed, wandering—

I occupy each season
refilled, resampled, revived

indigenous close up s

For Frank’s haibun prompt at dVerse, considering our relationship to the word indigenous, as we celebrate both Columbus Day and the native peoples who inhabited this land long before Columbus discovered it.

Parameters

parameters s

The Other becomes objectified–
the truth barren, ruptured, hollow–
the path clogged and narrowing–
the pieces shot, scattered,
abandoned—the heart
fallen empty,
divided,
broken—
lost

A nonet for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday words, empty and space.  There is so much of it that needs to be filled these days.

parameters close up s

I had a vision for this watercolor, but the paint had its own ideas.  Obviously acquainted with the Oracle.

 

turn turn turn

turn turn turn s

Every year fall foliage surprises us with its clichés. Fibers yellow on the edges, becoming brittle and brown. Scarlet fire burns itself into a colorless ash.

Memory preserves the departed colors, waiting in darkness.

We have been to this place many times before and yet still it catches us, wheeling us with the wind. Time contracts, translating itself into a hidden refuge, a seed to hold and protect through the long nights.

Life turns inward now–
sleep opening like the wings
of migrating birds

turn turn turn close up s

For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #107, fall foliage.

reconciliation

reconciliation s

I am
always only
partway there–

I know what to avoid
but not how
to release what has departed.

I used to chase the seasons–
now I wait for what is given–
intangible substances–

the perimeter expands,
the sky is higher,
placed carefully in the interval.

The predictable
always takes you by surprise–
you can still retreat

but you can’t follow any forecast–
the combinations are secret
and without form.

What remains is reflection–
the transient continually rearranged
into something resembling a life.

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  Magpies seem to be one of those places where opposites meet.  What we take away from them depends on what we bring.

reconciliation close up s