Yeats

wingspirit

“Away, come away:
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.”
–W.B. Yeats

I circled around with the Oracle this morning, rearranging the words, paring them down, but ending up with the same message I began with. When looking for images, I thought right away of the birdlings, and these collages I did for one of Jane’s Yeats prompts way back in 2017 seemed to fit perfectly, along with the quote from Yeats.

I’m trying very hard to ignore how our government is selling its soul for the trappings of power. How long until we listen to the universe, and remember who we should be?

to belong to blue
open sky music
into wingspirit

full of soundlight
listen together
with the universe

as every voice
remembers its song
and soars

because

The Oracle insisted I use the Mustache kit this morning, and this is what she gave me there. When I was looking in the archives for art, besides the above image, I came across another one I’ve used before. That one, below, was used for one of Jane’s Yeats challenges, which she and I had just been talking about,

“Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?”
–Yeats

Crown falls with
angels and stars, laughs,
becomes seeds–
now singing,
calling to earth’s children—Come!
Touch the sacred skies!

if you believe in the mystery
life is poetry–
growing roots–calling
with the power of a stillness
beyond space or time

Phoenix

There is no drama in most moments, but the accumulation becomes a story.  One day you wake up, or you think you wake up.  But something burns—you can smell it in the air.  Ashes of yesterday are falling from the sky.  You thought the past was dead, but it has only rearranged itself into today, or is it already tomorrow? 

And what happened yesterday anyway?

I went out to the hazel wood because a fire was in my head.  I walked and walked and walked until I came to a pool of water, still and deep.  I sat beside it, watching my reflection smolder, waiting for something to be revealed.  The light scattered on the liquid surface held me and gave me a different life, turned me inside out.

Now I am only flames, or was that yesterday?  Which side am I on?

For the dVerse Prosery prompt from Kim, some inspiration from Yeats: ‘I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head’.

The art is from a series of constellation poems I did for Pure Haiku. Freya’s current theme is Unfurling–you can submit until February 28.