Shadows wind through the spring green, recalling winter, they carry the scent of blood and despair driven by lies, the play of elaborate schemes, and delirious dreams and desire blown into the after time,
and I ache, wishing, wondering if I see light, honeyed rays through verdant trees, the pink-petaled spray of hope—
full of ever and always, somewhere my mother is in a garden or gazing at an azure sea,
she takes her brush, erases the storms, the grey-clouded earth, paints bright color on her canvas,
and I wake to birdsong and feathered-wishes diamond bright in the still dark sky.
The Magnetic Poetry Oracle knows everything. The political situation here in the U.S. is quite troubling; Mother’s Day is tomorrow, and it’s spring. We collaborated on this poem.
She sleeps in a thousand blues of forest-shadowed whispers, waiting for the world to wake, now in-between–
and in her dreams, she listens for sky voices, the laugh of stars and birds remembering the rhythm of days, tiny rose-tips, yet unseen
but when, not if, they come again dressed in honeyed gowns of golden light, lingering– she’ll wake to take her place, sweet May Queen–
with each embrace, she color-spaces a trace of perfume recalls her paces, and soft poetry where she has been, always and forever green.
I haven’t done too many NaPoWriMo prompts this month because I’m writing for an Ekphrastic Challenge, and there are only so many poems I can write each day! But, I always visit the the Magnetic Poetry Oracle on Saturdays, and today she gave me this sort of folk tale poem.
The moon sighs and sings, a luscious silver spray in blue, the fiddler plays along, repeating feather trills, the universe’s secret smiles–
now watch the ghosts dance, bird-winged, eternal– or almost–
and ask what they see, and if they dream, or revel in argent glow,
their hearts recalling when and never, before shadows and the afterlight of a thousand stars in song.
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt asks us to create a “Personal Universal Deck,” a card deck of words. I like the idea of creating my own word deck, but today I’m basing my poem on words from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. We have a standing Saturday date to collaborate, and I wouldn’t want to upset her. 😏
Why have I never seen the turn of spring to summer, overnight the moonlight sings sweetly into possible
the cycles—storms to sun, a daffodil, then a rose.
And if time winds through the shadows, why do I not see that beneath the ancient after, all the befores–
a language barely spoken, questions asked and lost
like faded blooms. But still, the promise, like a smile, recalled, in the robin’s song at dawn.
It took some work to get a message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle today. I’m taking it easy after my second Covid vaccine yesterday, but the moon was humming early this morning and a robin was singing. Tonight is the start of Passover.