Song Cycle

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Caspar David Friedrich, The Morning

 

Stroll through soft cloud blossoms

cold rain and light

joined in poetry, nature’s songs

carrying rhythm from the deep

of ancient and always,

 

~climbing with the sun~

 

I wander,

linger with spirits the color of dusk

and if I sing of if,

sing with me in harmony,

following the moon.

 

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Caspar David Friedrich, The Evening

 

I think the Oracle knew that I needed a break yesterday. Even though I tried every set of tiles, she would not give me a message. She finally decided I was ready late in the day, when I started this, but then I got interrupted by a phone call. Here’s the puente–it’s mostly her, but there’s a bit of collaboration. I chose the paintings afterwards.

Theories of Clouds and Time

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Caspar David Friedrich, “Drifting Clouds,”[Public Domain], Wikipedia Commons

Once I looked up at the night sky

and watched the clouds flying

 

like time

on feathered wings,

 

I flew along,

eager for what it’d bring,

 

asking why–

finding when

 

happens then

again, and time the thing

 

like clouds

that drifts up, away, sighing.

 

Taking a work break! This is a quadrille for De’s prompt on dVerse using the word “up,” and for my dVerse prompt on theories.

And some music, Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now”–from her Clouds album.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At Dawn: Microfiction

 

Caspar David Friedrich

Caspar David Friedrich: Frau in der Morgensonne G45

Caspar David Friedrich, “Woman before the Rising Sun,” [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Gwendolyn rose early, as she did every day. Sometimes the dogs came with her, but today she left them in a tangled, snoring heap of legs and tails. There were no predators here. She walked up the hill. There she waited as the sky gradually turned pink and orange, and then filled with the resplendent golden glow of the suns. She greeted the dawn like an old friend, and certainly they knew each other, as she had performed this ritual every day for over a decade.

In the distance, she saw the horses grazing. Their coats gleamed blue in the dawn light. She glanced again at the sky. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. Nina and Jin had been gone for many years. Death came, even in paradise. They had been the scouts, the pioneers, the homesteaders. Their ship, the Endeavour, had been well-equipped, and they landed safely here, on Paradise.

She left her morning post. In the evening, she would climb the hill again. Gazing for what? Hope, she supposed. A sign of another ship that had escaped from Earth. A sign that she was not the only human in the universe.

 

I remembered a title today! This story is in response to Jane Dougherty’s microfiction challenge.

The prompt is the painting above by Caspar David Friedrich. I totally forgot there were also theme words, which did indeed fit the painting, but I went my own way, ignoring the woman’s appearance. I’m a rebel.