For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, a shadorma collaboration with the Oracle.
between earth
and clouded air live
secret paths
that follow
water and wind—ask the light
to sing your soul through
Watercolor with neocolor lines drawn over it
watercolor
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…”
be not like
time—fleeting, mournful,
pursuing
fate—within
each bivouac is a dream–
heart sailing the soul
solstice
shapeshifting through time
in light laid bare by absence
a clash of silence
For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge #144, solstice.
we tell the same story again and again
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.
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.
latitudes
an infused
world, changing with sky
light weather–
we construct
alternates to confusion,
editing ourselves,
trying to
change the stories, shape
how we fit–
our doors swing
only in and out—not through,
not passing between—
our edges
are meant to divide–
what do we
really see?
surrounded by leeways–who
can control the wind?
A shadorma chain for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.
crossing over
our cells are
one with water air
flower tree
For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above. Hard not to think of Monet.
One of the beauties of his water lily paintings is how they draw you in, to a space that is timeless and endless. Like we belong there.
on memory’s wind
ghosts of lilacs
shimmer with butterflies
ambrosial
For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #139 fragrant breeze.
the way out is also the way in
a journey far from home
outside of existence
filled with voices
containing only silence
outside of existence
the mirror turns away
containing only silence
the echoes of opening
the mirror turns away
reflected in portals
the echoes of opening
where time remains lost
reflected in portals
held in absentia
all time remains lost
until the stars sing
held in absentia
amid the unexplained
until the stars sing
souls crossing over
amid the unexplained
filled with voices
souls crossing over
a journey returning home
Another pantoum. Ammol at dVerse asks us to consider portals.
Overtures
Would you be crowned with jewels
or a garland of blooms?
a silence eternal or fleeting?
Would you seek a throne
or a resting place between?
a looking out or within?
perhaps a bed of meadow,
a ceiling of stars–
the earth beneath you—
Would you always be as you are?
or would you have your seasons,
knowing that change contains
both sweetness and sting—
that life gathers
in anticipation of emptying—
that everything constructs
the form that contains
its end?
More questions, for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.
Also linking to dVerse OLN, hosted by Mish.
interchange
Some thoughts from the Oracle about Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above. The photo looked familiar so I searched through my archives and found my previous response. The painting I did was quite different, but the words seem eerily applicable to my present relationship to the world–“this false night, this held breath”. Am I who I was before?
am I who I was
before
the ocean remembered me?–
only a fool’s voice
sailing blue—
I listen for the words
of cloud magic
to open this asking path
into the dancing skies of always
