avigation, or: how else to touch the sky?

moon appears as reflection–
sun mirrored into night
but brighter, closer

and how far is far away?–
forever, sometimes, as if
never were always the answer
to the question of when

third eye digs deeper,
dreamclosing the distance, the interval
between asleep and wings

It was cloudy when the moon was eclipsing last night, but later on it cleared into mist, and woke me up, as it is wont to do–the top photo is how it looked through my bedroom window about 3am. And above is a close up. The mist allowed me to get some detail–when it’s very clear all that shows up in photos is an intense light.

A quadrille using the word sleep for Sarah at dVerse. I’ve borrowed the dual title idea from David at The Skeptic’s Kaddish–I ran across the word avigation (it means aerial navigation) recently, and I’ve been wanting to use it for something ever since.

The moon was misty last week too.

dormant

asleep–
shadowed, murmured by songs
that imitate the deep
voices owned by seasons–
transitioning, replete

asleep–
lingering into dawn
as passages repeat
and echoing, are drawn
into themselves, complete

asleep–
between inside upon–
all spaces merge and meet,
all measurements are wrong–
amorphous, bittersweet

A quadrille with the word season for dVerse in the Bob and Wheel form for Muri’s April Scavenger Hunt and NaPoWriMo Day 4.

clarified

morningtide chills,
causes the moment
of wakening to linger–
scattering the vestiges
of dreaming into limbo

where am I?

hidden inside
my longing to stay
covered, warm,
release all
obligations

I shiver

wonder whether
I can reject this
habitual rising
for a protracted
pause

They turn the heat off in my building at night and it doesn’t come on again until 6 am. My alarm goes off at 5:30, and these days it’s very tempting to linger for a half hour or more.

A quadrille for dVerse, where Merril has provided the word shiver.

The Hanged One

and after?

emerging from fire and flood
not with wings, risen from ashes,
but immersed in suspended time–
inside out upside down

to reverse is not to return

to surrender is not to admit defeat

to be still is not to remain forever bound

Sarah at dVerse has given us the word ash for our quadrille this week. The story she told of Odin hanging from the World Tree to gain wisdom made me think of The Hanged Man card from the tarot. I’ve seen it referred to as The Hanged One in several places, and I like that name better.

Continuing my series of tarot inspired collages using Egyptian figures, I put this together quickly, using a funerary figure and the doorway the dead are said to walk through. I usually spend days doing them, so I’m sure it will end up being revised since I’m not quite satisfied with it.

of feather and stone

rock high against
the firmament
stone smooth
against the palm–
what wishes are veined
inside each heart?
which dreams skim
the surface in currents
riding wings that touch
both earth and sky?
who can draw the line
between what is
and what might be?

Jane’s recent poems mentioning kestrels reminded me of this strange collage I made awhile ago from a kestrel painting and a brush drawn portrait, neither of which satisfied me.

It was inspired by Ethiopian healing scrolls, which contain both words and talismanic images, although except for the square face in the center, it doesn’t resemble any of the images in the scrolls. I still don’t know what to make of the collage, but now I, too, have attached words to it.

A quadrille for dVerse, where De has provided us with the word stone.

(re) corded

weaving light
waves that cross over
in curved lines,
waves that land
inside the pause of the edge,
waves that linger cusped–

a small piece
of time, and yet it
fills me up–
I balance,
holding on to tides synapsed
between spells and signs

Punu Ngura (Country with trees) 4, 2019 by Peter Mungkuri ...

Peter Mungkuri’s “Country with Trees”, above, is the current Kick-About prompt. The layering of the different elements got me thinking about an idea from Claudia McGill that I had copied and saved which I recently found when sorting out files.

She took a magazine and tore pages partially out to create a new layered collage-like image. I did not have any magazines with trees, but I have lots of surfing magazines I bought on eBay because they are full of images of sea and sky to use in collage. So I layered the ocean.

My poem is a shadorma quadrille for dVerse, using the word provided by Linda, linger.

somehow the blank piece of paper becomes something else

my hands drawn
into lines—tensely
embracing
escaping
furtively from fear, riddled
with hesitation

erasing
beginning again
layering
accruals
disguised by repetiton
over and over

and yet not
the same these motions
these attempts
to capture
a moment streaming tracing
the outlines of time

I’ve used the image from National Geographic provided by De at dVerse as inspiration for my watercolor/quadrille using the word stream.

Also linking to earthweal, where Sarah discuss the harvest festival of Lammas and asked us to think about how we harvest and transform in our own lives.

Vestiges

What abides
contains emptiness
waiting for
what cannot
return.  What abides remains
forever unfilled.

What abides
is quintessence—the
embodiment
of a way
of being—the exchange
of rudimentals.

What abides
contains entire lives
together
and apart–
more than a remembering–
opened held nowhere.

A quadrille for dVerse, where Jade has given us the word abide.

Optics

does what I construct
from what I see
fit the idea
of me?

can I be mirrored
repeated copied
multiplied

contained in reflection–
momentary glimpses–
light entering
eye?

translating possibility
into something visible,
manifest–

always an after
to an image as
elusive as
before

For both of this week’s dVerse prompts, from Mish (eye) and De (quadrille of possibilty).

There was a time when I did many many eye collages, and the illustrations here are from about seven years (and many lifetimes) ago. These are both good prompts, and I still have some ideas…