zero

Trees Ring You With Watchful Silence

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.

This is a black & white image of an ornate pond & garden from the Felt Estate in western Michigan
© Lisa Fox, Felt Mansion

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.

swifts & slows

I have four word collages in the current issue of swifts & slows. In addition to writing, they publish some really interesting combinations of image and text.

You can see my collages, and read the rest of the issue, here. Be advised that the link might not work if you’re using Firefox.

My thanks to editor Randee Silv for featuring my work.

The Color of Zero

Zero nests in between
darkness and light–
the black snake of the enso–
ouroboros consuming itself,
surrounded by circles
of white waves that are all
colors condensed
into the vision of none.

The emptiness of white
is contained in the deep vast
eternity of black–
an uneasy balance of possibility
ready to step into the abyss
like the fool.

Zero is the harlequin of innocence
wearing the mask of either/or–
comedy and tragedy opposing
but always joined–

a placeholder, not grey,
not veiled, but reflecting
an infinity that can be
seen only in relationship,
that when multiplied becomes
both more of what
it is and more of what
it is not.

Dusklight and dawnlight hover
on the border of uncertainty–
the hidden rainbow
and the vast uncolorable
center of waiting
that is
the cosmic
mind.

For the dVerse prompt of synesthesia, provided by Grace.