painting

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.

light years

black
hole
rabbit
hole—is it
curiosity
or gravity that pulls us in?

black hole sun s

The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 7 is to write either a shadorma or a Fib poem. I’ve written hundreds of shadormas (see Days 4 and 6 for example), so I decided to try a Fib, inspired by this article I was reading in the NY Science Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/24/science/astronomy-messier-87-black-hole.html

It’s a form that seems especially good for questions.

contexture

“But nobody pointed out that the web itself is a miracle.”
–E B White, “Charlotte’s Web”

how the sun
multiplies dewdrops
hovering
on nearly
invisible threads tiny
iridescent pearls

scattered on
paths that cross woven
in waves that
whisper with
the breeze leaving sparkling trails
like a fairy’s wand

releasing
the magic of stars
to the light
connecting
sheltering enabling this
miraculous life

Today for Day 6 the NapoWriMo prompt says: Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely. I chose “Charlotte’s Web” which has many many good lines to choose from.

Another shadorma chain, with art from the archives.

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.

Saying Grace (for Sue Vincent)

Not a body or voice–
something is listening,
filling me with prescience,
nourishment, shelter, rest,
warmth, an embrace.  Time and
space have no horizons.

Who knows what is
hidden—earthbound
or beyond—singing
in parallel time?
And where am I?
I can’t comprehend,

can’t contain this feeling–
it is always spilling
out and then refilling
with gratitude–I just
let silence reflect me,
imprinted on the land

Thanks Sue.

the great beyond

I consulted the Oracle this morning while thinking about Colleen’s #TankaTuesday theme chosen by Merril, immortality. I was surprised when I went to post it how it follows the Oracle’s message from last week–beyond to the great beyond. Although I am consumed, one might even say overwhelmed, by my moving tasks, as long as my computer is still assembled I will continue speaking with the Oracle on Saturdays.

black as death
we say—but what lies
whispering
like wind like
skyshadow singing through blue
lightdreams and still seas?

remember
the rhythm dancing
dazzled with
starsisters–
embrace the open window–
vast secrets flying

beyond

KL Caley is continuing Sue Vincent’s #writephoto, beginning with Sue’s original photo, below. I came to Sue’s photo prompts later, so this is my first response to the image. It being Saturday, after I painted my watercolors, I asked the Oracle to help with my poem. We know she has Sue on her mind, as all of us who have been touched by her do.

come through
this between wind
shaded in green light

breathe deep the spirit earth
beneath stonesongs
of pure listening

ask to follow rootpaths
as they seed birdgardens

rest full and true

feel the ancient how
of to be

Thirteen Ways (after Wallace Stevens and Joni Mitchell)

crow #2s

1
Did you know?  Was it you
who sent Crow?  Black wings
swallowed by the sky—

2
I had time and seasons
rising to meet me
like trembling in my bones,

3
like Icarus ascending
on beautiful foolish arms.

There's a crow flying # if I flew

4
Crow and I
are not one–
but we are together in this
cosmos, on this earth.

5
I do not know myself
and yet I know of the intersections
of that unknown self
with the call to attention
that is Crow.

apolcalyptic crow 2s

6
My mind is busy
with trivial things.
The shadow of a cry
spills everything out
empty
waiting for the return
of listening, watching.

7
O ragged soul—
why do you take flight?
Do you not see the trees?
They are returning from the dead
again and again.

8
I know many words
and the images that accompany them.
But I know too
that Crow lives deeper and wider
than what I know.

crow tree close up s

9
Diving diving diving diving.
There is no bottom no top
no inside or out.

10
At the sight of Crow
resounding the light
the layers reveal
their chorded songs.

spiral crows 2s

11
I walk these streets
in oblivion,
trying to escape
the fear of the known
by making up stories
that rearrange my life.

12
I hear my fate turn turn turn—
how many crows?

13 blackbirds s

13
Always standing in the doorway
like Janus—neither and both–
cursed and charmed—
Crow laughs—he knows
I have a dream to fly.

crow #1s

Brendan at earthweal asks us this week to think about the nature of poetry. I first encountered Wallace Stevens and “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” in high school and it remains my poetic touchpoint more than 50 years later. But equally important to my connection with poetry was music–first, traditional folk music, and then the whole crop of singer-songwriters that emerged from the folk revival. I love Joni Mitchell’s “Blue”, but “Hejira” has always resonated with me most of all. The form of this poem is based on Stevens, but the spirit and italicized words are taken from Joni and from my own encounters with Crow, a master shaman.

I have not been posting much, and will probably be mostly absent for the next month or 6 weeks–I’m moving (again). But this is good news! I will have a dedicated work space once again, and a real kitchen. I knew the last 2 moves were temporary, but I thought both moves before that would be the last one–so I’m making no predictions. But I’m planning to be there for awhile.

currents 2

Another elemental message from the Oracle. When I was looking for art to accompany it, I came across Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, below, and the paintings I did in response. A perfect match. Sue’s photos always have their own elemental messages, but this one seemed to have been taken just for the Oracle’s words.

how does path
wander through spirit

ask deep earth

follow spring
grow with ancient wild

riverroots

walk between
windsong and forest

full    green    light

You can see the original post, also a message from the Oracle, here.