One step forward, round and round, the labyrinth circles—go or stay? In the in-between, are answers found? Past finds future. What is the way?
The labyrinth circles—go or stay? She’s a shadow figure lost in blues, Past finds future. What is the way? Where are the clues?
She’s a shadow figure lost in blues in her mind-forests, she searches dreams– where are the clues? Nothing here is as it seems,
in the in-between. Are answers found in her mind-forests? She searches dreams– but nothing here is as it seems– just one step forward, round and round.
For Paul Brookes’ Ekphrastic Challenge. I decided to change it up a bit, so I wrote a pantoum this time to reflect the circles of Kerfe’s work. I revised it a bit from the one posted on Paul’s site–but these are all rough drafts. I couldn’t quite work in John Law’s work for this one. You can see all the art and read all the poems here.
I watch purple shadows dance, lingering with cool kisses in the air as the sun shines pink-petaled on blue– listen, sky and water say, and the music is in my head as if honeyed light is fiddle and voice, recalling dreams, and the way the moon sings through a storm. Remember this, blushing clouds, the soft secret smiles of the universe, sailing into after. The wild magic surrounds you. Embrace it.
Today’s message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle–she, of course, sees me walking by the river.
Blue is the sea, river, and sky that flows beyond what we can see but never ending, flowing, going round again,
the light bends, refracting and reflecting shapes, colors, moods—blue hues— clear and bright, or misty-infused with pink and grey, a foggy day
or mind, we say. Sometimes reality blurs, dims with age, or fever-dreamed perceptions and neurons misdirecting proprioception, the mind filled with misconception,
flies. And yet, when we dream, fantasy and reality blur, the dead come alive, the alive are dead– I see blue, but dream red
when my grandfather visits me from some other realm, sitting at a table well, he was a man who loved to eat— but now, we’re waiting for a play
but I say, I can’t stay and race off in a panic, and up, across the stage almost colliding with a male actor, to whom I apologize, waking soon after, without words, wise, or otherwise
from my grandfather. I wonder still after weeks, why was he in my dream? His family had to flee, asylum seekers from a repressive regime. He knew about hate, but also love, eloping when he was young, seeing ninety plus winters and sun,
announcing his presence with the scent of a cigar— I haven’t thought of him in a long time, why did he come to me that night? Against the vivid red of anxiety curtains, he was calm, unperturbed, in a grey suit,
slipping a message into my dream chute that this is just a moment, not final– the vivid reds and gold, turn brown, but the moon hums a song of cycling hues
with beauty all around. Blue moon tonight, then her circle grows smaller— but still there, just beyond our view directing tides through monthly cycles.
Black waters of night turn grey, then blue in morning light and though we know they’re there, the ghosts shimmer in the air—just out of view.
Over the past few days, every time I visit the Oracle, she gives me dreams and blue. The message above was from today. So, I went with it. We’ve had days and days of clouds and rain. The sun finally came out on Saturday, but then we had pouring rain yesterday. It’s sunny today, but it’s cold with gusty winds. We managed to find a time to get together with daughter and son-in-law—sitting well apart outside on their deck. We ate Thai food–and got some puppy time (and then it rained again).
Merril’s Movie Club: On Halloween night, we ate pizza with my homemade pumpkin pie for dessert and watched His House (Netflix), a thoughtful horror movie about South Sudanese refugees in London, who are (literally) haunted by ghosts of their past as they try to adjust to living in a new place and culture. There were several scenes that made me jump, but it’s the kind of horror movie that I like because it makes you think–and of course, it’s timely.