trees

in plain sight

if I could
unknit, remove these
protective
layers—un
knot the tangled breach—release
all I think I know,

return to
pause—recollecting,
listening
to the air
breathing in voices, called by
the resonance of

forest songs,
expanding into
organic
wondering–
(time knows its own creations–
unburdened by clocks,

the display
of exactitude)–
instead, re
placing all
measurement with one quivered
spiraling motion—

I wish to
sing odes composed by
trees—to be
answered not
with thoughts or questions, purpose
or pondering—but

to embrace
my own ring-years—to
follow the
journey of
each tree season, entering
what only seems closed

because I
choose to remain un
asked—having
forgotten
how to merge, integrate my
elemental core

For earthweal, a shadorma chain about elements.

I’ve been taking my portfolios out of the storage room to photograph and archive all the art I’ve accumulated over the past 50 years. In my late 20s and early 30s I did a lot of collage in series, very different (as you can see) from what I do now. These are all from the Wood series. Besides the art there were also some (bad) poems written around collages. But there were phrases worth exploring.

I combined a poem from 1983 with one from 2018 using synonyms for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday words, change and grow, and some of the words from Jane’s Random Word List.

The collages are interesting, even if they mostly don’t seem very wood-like to me now.

shivering the mirror

and what if
you grew roots,
awakened spirit,
became treebound–
your blood flowing
glorious amidst sapwood–
your body suddenly
magnificent, unhewn—
your arms branching
toward the sun,
Familiar to birds,
ancient, floating
on the breath of wings–
your heartwood
trembling, weightless,
awash in light?

A quadrille for dVerse, where De has given us the word wing, and for earthweal, where Sherry has asked us to speak for the trees. I’ve also used Jane’s Oracle 2 words as inspiration.

incorporeal

to be an observer
is more than a mere o
pening of the eyes–
you must vanish from the sight
of what you see, become
an immersion, a current
consumed by the between,
inside its invisible
core of light

Brendan at earthweal gave us some photos to work with for our poems this week. I chose the photo above, although the other ones are still on my mind.

now, when

what crowns morn
ing what binds begin
ning connects
endings to
portaled timelessness what re
news continues life

if not birds
if not stars if not
dawn if not
rain wind sky
if not fertile earth turning
into trees—what then?

For earthweal, spending some time with trees. My painting is, once again, inspired by Joan Mitchell’s tree paintings which I return to again and again.

fullness

Full was the first word that jumped out at me from the Oracle, but in the end it didn’t fit into what she wanted me to say. But it works as a title I think.

When I’m looking for images to illustrate a poem I search through old posts. I found some of these photos when I searched for trees in memadtwo, from a trip I made to visit my brother and his wife when they were living in Asheville, NC. Like me, he’s moved a lot–after 15 years and 3 cities in North Carolina, they are on their way back to Ohio again. So I probably won’t get back to Asheville.

But the photos and my memories of the landscape fit with the mood of the Oracle.s words today.

when moonspirit walks between
nightshading

listen like stones in the riverpath

follow deep rootblankets
through dark earth

resting at dawn
quiet beneath birdtendriled
ancient trees

breathing the bones

(at the heart)

may every
tree spread its roots interlocking
together to create a vast
community
bird-adorned canopy
meeting in
the intersected threads
cast by branches and
leaves maple ginko
oak beech linden willow pine
walk with the wind as they sail
ancient stories of beginning
stillness echoed back

The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 5 was to find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. I chose Lucille Clifton’s “blessing the boats”

I was also inspired by an article in the NY Times yesterday about the wonders of the oak tree.

The paintings were inspired by the tree paintings of Joan Mitchell.

currents 2

Another elemental message from the Oracle. When I was looking for art to accompany it, I came across Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, below, and the paintings I did in response. A perfect match. Sue’s photos always have their own elemental messages, but this one seemed to have been taken just for the Oracle’s words.