Red is an imaginary carpet dancing with desire, lettering the days with roses and birdwings. Red is the sky that turns the morning into an omen, the night into a full moon– catching dreams like a wayfaring balloon painting the town with stars.
The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write a poem that delves into the meaning of your first or last name. Roig means red in Catalan.
the moon reflects– caught between inside and out returning the light
For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge collection, I have chosen #170, Solstice II, December 19th. These are photos I took of the moon, which appeared briefly that night between the buildings. The clouds soon moved in, dashing any hopes of seeing the two planets in conjunction.
What most interested me about the photos was that the half moon appeared most clearly as a reflection caught in the glass of my window. Perhaps that’s all we can really hope to see this year–a mirrored image capturing what fleetingly enters our field of vision if we are lucky enough to be looking that way.
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.