Oasis

It’s a robin, I think, as the melody enters my consciousness through the window.  But then it morphs into a litany of birds from cardinal to crow.  There may even have been a frog thrown in for good measure.

I can’t locate the bird to see who is gifting me with its repertoire of local wildlife sounds.  It could be a starling—I once lived in an apartment where the local starlings would sit on the roof railing next door every morning and tell me all they knew.  But there are also plenty of both mockingbirds and catbirds hanging around.

city fades
a sanctuary
feathered skies

A meditation on sanctuary for earthweal. Also linking to dVerse OLN, hosted by MsJadeLi.

if the circle opens, will it become a line? (#2)

The Oracle’s message today reminded me of a collage I had done awhile ago. When I found it, I stole the title as well as the image. You can read the original here.

if I can remember
the color of myself
insideout

naked    foolish    magic

will my broken breath open
and ask for the air I need
to see voices
sailing on a vast listening
of oceans surrounded
with life’s slow sacred rhythm?

As usual, the answers are elusive.

washed but not cleansed

the day lost–where did it go?  did it depart or disappear?
what summons took it away, left us hanging in empty wind?–
scattering bits of sanity like lost laundry, unflown birds

The prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 20 is to write a sijo.

The only thing I unpacked today after the movers left was the computer. I know I’m behind on reading posts, but will try to catch up in the next week.

Later and Later (a rant, but not a humorous one)

Don’t start with contrition–
how you didn’t mean to, how you
rue the results of the actions
that brought us all to this place
where it seems the only way forward
is to give up and be be swallowed
by despair.

Don’t answer every question with
the anger of guilt, an attack masking
the refusal to ever admit that you
knew the ending but thought
it would not be laden with consequences,
given the assurance that you
would be protected.  

You pretended not to see,
to know, to understand the evil
that seeps even through the walls
of superiority and raw fear
you built to keep yourself
untouched by what others
experience.

You dismissed the world
outside your circle, considered it
beyond your personal responsibility
or control, your conclusions
leaping into the arms of death
which has no loyalty to any time
or space.

Now what you didn’t do
or say or think about
expands to include the exclusive
as well as the excluded
to fade the fortunes
of both the lucky and
the lost.

The currents recognize no
artificial boundaries.
The transmission of sorrow
travels into every corner
of acceptance, denial, and bridge
that attempts to turn back, turn away,
or cross.

I know NaPoWriMo asked for a humorous rant. But my anger at the moment is not funny.

bending light

bare branches
so still
they turn to stone

and skip across
the water
rearranging

crosscurrents–
altering
form and function

The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 18 is to “write a poem based on the title of one of the chpaters from Susan G. Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Word“. I chose “bending light”.

close your eyes

I did have the NaPoWriMo prompt in mind today when I visited the Oracle. At least in terms of a song. My things are mostly in boxes, not drawers, at the moment–this is my third move in the last 18 months so it’s all junk now. I was also thinking how much I would like to just take an entire day and do nothing but sleep. Which led me to James and Joni. And the Oracle obliged.

all I want
is to sleep beneath
a still sky–
a shadow
of whispered light on water
moondreaming the wind

The Age of Aquarius

Back when the musical “Hair” came out, some astrologers grumbled that it wasn’t really the Age of Aquarius yet.  But what did we care?  We were tired of the world as it was, ready for Peace Love and Understanding.

Well…maybe not.

chaotic stillness
watching from the whorled center
for new beginnings

During 2020 there were rumblings once again online about the REAL Age of Aquarius finally showing up.  I was skeptical to say the least.

all those lost patterns–
I collect them in my mind,
in new rotations

It seems we had the Age of Aquarius skewed, not only in time.  Yes, it’s a total tearing down and rebuilding.  But it’s going to require hard work.  Taking a lot of drugs and wearing tie-dye and listening to songs about love won’t do it.

all impermanence—
no matter which way you turn
the path continues

Can we change our entire approach to living together, not only with each other, but with the earth, its creatures, its landscape, its elements?  We need to if we want to survive.

giving myself hope
inside my dark wanderings–
a world of wonder

When Phil asked me to choose this week’s Kick-About prompt, I thought immediately of The Age of Aquarius, because I’ve been turning over in my mind the hope that it might be real, that humanity can change. I always loved the music posters of the “Hair” era, and used them as inspiration for my neon colored paintings.

I’m looking forward to seeing all the other responses next week.

breathing the bones

(at the heart)

may every
tree spread its roots interlocking
together to create a vast
community
bird-adorned canopy
meeting in
the intersected threads
cast by branches and
leaves    maple ginko
oak beech linden willow pine
walk with the wind as they sail
ancient stories of beginning
stillness echoed back

The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 5 was to find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. I chose Lucille Clifton’s “blessing the boats”

I was also inspired by an article in the NY Times yesterday about the wonders of the oak tree.

The paintings were inspired by the tree paintings of Joan Mitchell.