the bridge to night, hushed and wakeful, asks me questions– the words cast spells,
hushed and wakeful, delicate and cobwebbed, into ice—a sudden snow
asks me questions, but I remain cloistered– self-contained, undreamed—
the words cast spells– maps sailing silent unknown boundless seas
I started to construct a quadrille for dVerse, using the word ice given to us by Mish, and words from the Random Generator which Merril posted on Sunday. When I saw Colleen’s Ekphrastic prompt, above, it gave me a focus for what I had begun. I used the trimeric form.
I decided to do something a little different with Jane’s Random Word List this week–I cut out all the words and combined them with a few from my own collage box oracle on a painted postcard, as I like to do (but haven’t done often enough lately). The image was inspired by Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday prompt, the photo by her friend, Terri Webster Schrandt, below.
gentle vagabond friend– the countryside extends great distances—opens time to welcome you home
I don’t think anyone ever told me it was wrong, exactly, to spend my wishes on myself. I could want things, ask for them, covet them, even. But wishes were in another dimension.
The earliest thing I actually remember wishing for consistently was along the lines of “peace love and understanding”. That was adolescence, the 60s—wasn’t every sane person wishing for the same thing? Aren’t they still?
Even now I am cautious of wishing. But I can’t help wishing humans would consider the consequences of what we say and do, and take responsibility for what happens as a result. And I wish fervently that we would be better caretakers of the earth and all of its inhabitants.
And for myself, today? I pour another cup of coffee–
watch birds open wings, touch the sky– all I need
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday where the theme chosen by Anita Dawes is what you wish for. I’m also linking to dVerse OLN, hosted by Linda.
When I was searching for this song I found more different versions of it on YouTube than any other song I’ve ever looked for. It obviously strikes a chord.
Hands pause—you whistle between. White bridge slips through your fingers. Who can number the space of days? To cross them, you must open. The gate shapes all beginnings, all answers, to equal zero.
Lisa, at Tao Talk, supplied Colleen’s #TankaTuesday image, above. I wanted to try a sijo, which is the Wombwell Rainbow’s form this week. I think I’ve done one before, but it was a long time ago. I like the way it encourages the writer to think about different aspects of the same thought.
I’ve used some embroidered circles I did for a Kick-About prompt as illustration–the Eames Powers of Ten film, a barrage of images, made me think of zero, Lisa’s photo reminded me also of crossing the circles of space and time.
This week’s Oracle 2 words from Jane gave me a starting point–whistle. Which made me think of whistling in the wind. The human condition. Nevertheless, we continue.
You can read the story of the photo at Tao Talk here.
Snowfall. Night. The shore is distant. I dream of flying—but I remain enclosed within ice blue, glittering.
North seems far– where I am has no direction. The landscape retreats until almost all is trapped within dreams.
Barren seas echo with silence. The world cracks. Wind weeps in side chasms of solitude– the melting of time.
Sherry’s heartbreaking photo, above, that accompanied her prompt at earthweal to talk about the connections between life and the melting ice of the arctic, inspired the dreamscape of my shadorma chain, written also for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, where Jules selected shadorma as this month’s form.
Is this the inside of my dream? These days I am cautious of everything—afraid of the future, the past, afraid even of my fear. But this is not the grey noir darkness of the usual tunnels my night journeys follow. There are no trains to miss, no staircases to nowhere. This passageway is alive, a cocoon of possibility opening into an illuminated aperture.
And do I see rabbits? I was born in the Year of the Rabbit. What will we find if we enter into that light?
happy end ings tucked away just in case—I whistle on the wind– birds echo the song
Mish at dVerse has introduced us to the art of Vika Muse:
“I wish I could have manta rays in the sky… instead of Russian bombs and military airplanes. I’ve noticed that my disturbing paintings didn’t make me happier. They cause even deeper depression. So I’ve tried to draw my future. It is bright and sunny. There are no bombs and war… Only beautiful landscapes and dreamlike sky. I hope I’ll meet such a future someday… P.S. Be empathetic with your relatives and value your lifestyle. It’s big happiness to have mundane life and safety and independence. So simple and so valuable.”
can we remember the dance, the music?—when life gathered us as one?
Selma and Colleen chose this Degas painting of Russian dancers, above, as the image prompt for this week’s #TankaTuesday. When I was looking through my archives for my own image to accompany my poem, I came across a collage which I had done for one of Sue Vincent’s photo prompts. I decided to use the same title–my wish for what the earth provides freely to humans, if they would only let it, honor it, nourish it–instead of destroying it with their selfishness and greed.
Margins move, expand to new apogees, new depths– vicissitude reigns.
Riding the rainbow we leap onto the Wheel of Fortune
Change is the key word for the Year of the Tiger.
The first tiger blends Mexican and Chinese mask elements, and the second is based on Chinese children’s shoes. Tigers are considered a powerful protective motif, and are often used for children’s clothing, hats as well as shoes. Fish are added for abundance and good luck.