I hold out
my hands and wait for
the moon to
fill them—I
close my eyes to balance on
the edge of the light
I render
myself, quiet the
quivering,
awaken
the colors beyond darkness–
depths turned inside out
Shadorma for Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday words, give and shake. Photos are of last night’s full moon as seen from the sidewalk in front of where I live.
Also linking to OLN at dVerse, hosted by Grace.
open the
sky, wash the air with
colors, sing
the wind far
and over the veiled secrets
hidden and exposed
written in
the patterns of land,
dancing on
particles
of distilled light, taking all
and then returning
voyagers
on boundless oceans
flowing be
yond, unfurled,
spinning with spirits, flying–
exploding like stars
I was revising a poem (perhaps posted before–my record-keeping is spotty at best) into shadorma form for Colleen’s #tankaTuesday choice-of-words to go with Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, when Laura’s dVerse poetics prompt appeared, with its list of -less words. “Boundless” seemed to reflect more the poem’s intent than my original “endless” (and I like the repetition of the b sounds), and there, also, was the title I needed–“weightless”.
And the spirits, if not the Force, still seem to be with me…
I’ve shown the process of my painting–first I did pure color, then I washed it out by running it under the faucet and letting it dry. I then added some subtle iridescence with a bit more color.
Children grow
wings, flying high, far–
in the wake
we wait for
yesterday to catch up with
what they have become
Sunriseset–
the pattern of days
opening
and closing,
the inside of the circle
empties and refills
Repeating
our footsteps, echoed,
mirrored, but
not the same–
the outlines rearranging
beginning to end
Sunriseset–
the pattern of days
opening
and closing,
the inside of the circle
empties and refills
Image by enriquelopezgarre from Pixabay
For Colleen’s #tankaTuesday photo prompt, above, selected by Linda Lee Lyberg. I’ve been looking at the image, trying to decide if it was a sunrise or a sunset in order to focus my words. This made me think of the iconic song from Fiddler on the Roof, “Sunrise Sunset”. Frank’s prompt at dVerse, to compose something in imitation of something else, made me think about trying to capture the essence of the song in a shadorma chain that also reflected the artwork.
Fiddler on the Roof resonates more than ever in these times, when so many are homeless, driven from their literal and spiritual homes by money, politics, war, ignorance, power and greed, when so many are left abandoned, wandering or imprisoned. A world that offers few peoples and places that will welcome refugees and attempt to heal the empty spaces, few places that are not afraid of strangers, of humans who are not exactly like them.
This scene in the play never fails to move me: in dark times, there is still a place to come together in hope, to light a candle, to dream.
An antidote to my poem posted on The Ekprastic Review today.
consider
the reckless places
hidden in
hearts, shining
like newborn constellations
exploding the dark–
pulled apart
by merciless force,
undefined
gravities–
adrift in the orbits
of recurrent night—
what creates
these seas of hope?–light
ships sailing
on longing–
circumnavigations of
storms searching for ports
A shadorma chain for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday words, grace and style, inspired by Amaya at dVerse, who asked us to think about birth.
I’m definitely a storm searching for a port at the moment, so I’ll be around irregularly for awhile, but I won’t completely disappear.
She talks to
me but the voice casts
no words, just
spinning the
same sounds over and over
without an ending.
All at once
she disintegrates,
becomes air,
a shadow
overlapping itself with
illumination.
She seems lost
in a space beyond
time—alone
she dances,
an untamed ocean dazzling
color into light.
Bjorn has asked us at dVerse to try changing our point of view–I took a poem from 2018 written in first person and became the observer, watching the original narrator and attempting to describe what I saw. I think I observe situations and animals or landscapes in poems sometimes, but not often actual people, because it definitely felt awkward. Still, I think I managed to keep the original feeling.
You can see the first version of this poem here.
who will solve
the sorcery of
synergies
that mirror
dreams and wishes like a feast
of dazzled delight?
A shadorma for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday words spell and treat.
