Say there were shadows—there
whispering beneath the fog—and–
say there were blue-sprayed shapes
watching with silent sea-tongues
who wanted you to see
~beyond~
and after,
and if, the bitter blows come,
there is still the luscious scent of summer rain
and a dream of light,
of moon-song’s lingering silver after a storm.
Today’s message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. She always knows. The photo is from my walk earlier this morning.
Silence comes on morning fog
shrouding life in grey and white
drifting in, an epilogue
to what has come before, at night,
the starry skies and canorous moon
hidden behind the shadowy clouds–
but listen–silence sings a tune
sometimes soft, sometimes loud,
in the susurration of wind and rain,
in the scurrying from dusk till dawn,
in hearts that beat again and again
there’s never silence till we’re gone.
Caspar David Friedrich, “Sea Beach in the Fog, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Dwight, guesting hosting the dVerse poet’s bar, has asked us to write about silence.
Show me the beauty
beneath mist a thousand pictures,
in shadow whispers
time’s music urges, please
recall when,
and if—
was it so
or no?
Claude Monet, “Waterloo Bridge, Effect of Fog,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
The Oracle was being coy today. It took me a few attempts to coax anything from her, and then apparently she looked outside my window to see the misty day.
fog recedes, tide-like,
misty skies change, gray turns blue
sun and spirits rise
a smile forms on weathered face
raised to catch the radiance
This tanka is for Colleen Chesebro’s Weekly Tanka Poetry Challenge. The prompt words this week were fog and change.
