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

 

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

 

 

(lost) treasure

lost treasure s

each season
knows that its costumes
must be re
moved, decay
ing all at once to fleetingly
encircle the end

the old sub
tracted, the new feigns
silence as
it changes
into breath—colors conjured,
spilled, yielding to time

recrossing
the same distances
to return
to waiting,
awakening—each day be
stowed, ripened, revoked

A shadorma sequence for Colleen’s #tankaTuesday words, fall and give.

lost treasure close up s

The nights here are cool, but the days are still mired in summer.