the chorus of everywhere

tree 2

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.”
Hermann Hesse

stop making
maps—destinations
are without
meaning—this
journey does not follow roads
to faraway lands

look around
at the familiar
landscape—light,
water, stone,
the patterns of trees joining
wings to earth and sky

listen to
the stillness of no
time—listen–
suspend all
expectations—what you need
is already here

tree 2 close up s

For Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday, a shadorma chain inspired by a quote from Hermann Hesse, selected by Sue Vincent.

tree 1s

borderlands

borderlands 1s

time
distills
into the
slow motion of
half-forgotten hours–
astral sunsets emerge
inside the dense dazzled air–
waiting to join the fading light
that veils the edge between earth and sky

A nonet for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and Colleen’s #tanka Tuesday, with synonyms for blessed and hex, provided by Anita Dawes.

borderlands 2s

I did two  rorschach paintings which turned out slightly different.

wings 2s

But somehow I always end up with wings.

wings 1s

 

on the sands of time

on the sands s

on the sands of time

A found poem from Longfellow’s “A Psalm of Life”, the theme suggested by Pat R. for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday.  I’ve constructed a shadorma with the help of the Collage Oracle.

“…Lives of great men all remind us
   We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
   Footprints on the sands of time…”

on the sands close up s

be not like
time—fleeting, mournful,
pursuing
fate—within
each bivouac is a dream–
heart sailing the soul

byways

byways s

earth and its creatures
magic in shadow
byways reflected moonward
starpaths that carry
the edges of endless tides

Colleen gave us the photo, above, as our #Tanka Tuesday inspiration.  My collage and gogyohka approach it from a distance.

byways close up s

After I saw how Jude at Tales Told Different reversed the order of his tanka lines to make a new and complementary poem, I decided to try it with my 5 lines.  To my surprise, it also works when turned around…an unplanned bonus.

the edges of endless tides
starpaths that carry
byways reflected moonward
magic in shadow
earth and its creatures

we tell the same story again and again

the same stories s

Is this
what we say when
words cross, intersect with
essence?  What point is created?
is it

an end,
a beginning
meeting as paradox,
the sum we call zero?  Nothing
happens

and yet
everything is–
a birth peeling off time
into all possibilities–
is it

the moon
reflecting sun,
breath and sky dissolving
layer by layer?  Finally
the sea

returns
the well-worn path
as a mercurial
map, constantly rearranging
the bones.

Is this
a beginning,
a birth peeling off time
layer by layer?  Finally,
the bones.

the same stories close up s

Colleen challenged us to write a garland cinquain for her Tanka Tuesday prompt.  I’ve used synonyms for the words provided this week by Linda Lee Lyberg, nimble and enigma.

I do seem to tell the same story over and over again.  But perhaps I’m getting a bit better at it.

(‘fore) casted

forecast s

attention
wanders, feet moving
by rote, the
mind busy
with itself—unaware of
color sound or sky—

dark spots on
the sidewalk—rain wakes
me from an
already
forgotten reverie–like
Crow calling my name

forecast close up s

A shadorma pair for Colleen’s #tanka Tuesday, poet’s choice of words, inspired by the dVerse word provided by Sarah, rain.

 

sustenance

drawing-constellations-s

sustenance magnetic s

For Colleen’s #tanka tuesday, using a quote supplied by Merril Smith, below, as inspiration.

“How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world.”― William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice

crazy quilt

I’ve been in a creative funk the past few days, so I consulted the Oracle for some help with my shadorma sequence. And once again, I’m recycling some old art.

what lingers
within the workings
of a life
time    dancing
home by remembering the
rhythms of the stars

roots seeding
trees that grow between
deep earthlight
beholding
to the cycles stitched full through
what shines from the heart

 

 

 

Minus the Princess

minus the princess s

Black Beauty
leaves behind a trail
of tears, a
synthesis
of dazzling blue fire and the
mad Czar’s purple sword

Tender and
true, Aurora laughs,
dances in
the golden
acres, wandering among
old Jacob’s cattle

The Purple
Queen calls on Jack Ice
to render
wizardly
mutations—lazy housewife
into Reine des Glaces

minus the princess close up s

A bit of fun using the seed names suggested by Sarah at dVerse in a shadorma chain for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday with synonyms for harmony and transition.  Perfect words for a garden!

To the Monarch (May 2020)

may grid s

Who will
carry the end
back to the beginning?
who will remember the lost, re
locate
the disappeared?  Who will fill life
with futures, release those
fragile wings to
the skies?

brown monarch s

I decided to do my May grid and a butterfly cinquain for both the NaPoWriMo Day 30 prompt, “something that returns”, and Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday prompt theme, chosen by Elizabeth from Tea and Paper, “the day after”.

When Nina and I first started blogging at memadtwo, one of my recurring themes was endangered species.  I posted twice (here and here) about the Monarch Butterfly, and wrote in one post:

Most people know that monarchs migrate from the United States and Canada to central Mexico to hibernate in winter. This can mean a trip of nearly 3,000 miles!

Between 2012 and 2013 the amount of butterflies who wintered in the Mexican forest decreased by 40%. The forest habitat itself is disappearing as a result of illegal logging. But the extreme weather conditions of the last few years, due to climate change, have also caused lower hatching rates. Another factor is the loss of milkweed plants, the primary food source for monarchs, killed by agricultural herbicides.

may grid close up s

Perhaps the coronavirus will provide these beautiful creatures with some respite from human destruction.

When looking for music about migration I remembered Steve Earle’s song.  Monarchs remind us that borders are only the lines that we ourselves choose to draw.

Thanks to Maureen Thorson and all the participants in NaPoWriMo 2020 for helping me to travel all over the world and creating bridges that reached far beyond the walls and borders of our politics and our forced isolation.

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