Songs of Sky and Dreams

Marc Chagall, “The Fiddler,” 1912

First the storm—a black dragon’s fire-roar,
swept away on fiddler’s notes,
scattered by an owl’s wings whoosh
across a blood red moon.

Sleep brings memories of forgotten tongues
lost to when

and if I can hear them, why don’t I understand

how here above the garden, the sky sings pink,
and honeyed-light falls in a spray,

a perfect moment that cannot last–
yet still I sense the echoes.
like a laugh remembered from a dream.

My poem from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. I have been having some vivid dreams lately. . .

24 thoughts on “Songs of Sky and Dreams

  1. Dreams are just like echos…the substance remains even if the details are lost. I’ve been having vivid dreams too. I like the way the Oracle can approach the same subject in each of our different ways. (K)

  2. There must be something in the air. I’ve been dreaming wildly, too. However, I cannot put them to such beautiful words as you do. What fabulous imagery you have provided us, with, of course, the Oracle’s help. Lovely!

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