Celebrate. . .but

Sunrise, Pitman Golf Course, June 2020

 

Celebrate,

but listen–

not to the naked fool.

 

Drink,

but not the dark brews

of pseudo-science and demagogues.

 

Celebrate and drink 

in the dazzling beauty of sky, sea, and flowers

that bloom and dance in the breeze.

 

Listen for good,

for healing and laughter,

for all the ifs

 

time offers

 

a window open to always,

never, and ever after

reflected in the glass,

 

past and future

in a brilliant cloud,

ghosts

 

leaving a trace in the air,

like perfume, I breathe in

the scent of caramel and coffee

 

that floats,

like a smile of, for

eternity.

 

My message from the Oracle. She does love the Puente form, even though she likes to play with it.

It’s Independence Day here in the U.S., the fourth of July, when we celebrate the anniversary of when the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence in 1776. The Oracle is obviously disgusted with the display the current and supremely ignorant inhabitant of the White House decided to put on last night, where he played to the basest of his base.

 

In the Ever and After

NASA

 

ferocious eternity, a blush away

in a brilliant cloud—

 

listening for home,

I soar in search of time,

 

and if

I find, hear

 

the cosmos

in full-flowered rhapsody,

 

it is always a world

with dream language

 

like glass

and ocean, light-filled

 

ascending

with a thousand laughing wings

 

(wake, listen)

 

to heal the tiny tears

of the universe

 

in the ever

and the after

 

where magic lingers,

a ghost in the night.

 

It’s Saturday, and so, I consulted the Oracle. She gave me this poem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not Never, Always

 

My mother sings in dreams,

not of death, but light

holding promises of if–

soar, she cries,

why whisper what you want

when your words can fly,

 

~reaching~

 

for you, I wake,

as the robins rouse the sun

to blossom in apricot splendor.

Their voices carry on the wind–

a song that makes the flowers dance,

and I watch, at peace

 

~in this moment~

 

the world searches

for hope,

sending out wishes on stars

with a laugh,

time sings through a thousand rivers,

not of never, but of always.

 

I tried several sets of tiles, and the Oracle kept giving me the same words. I hope I interpreted her message correctly. A Puente is technically two stanzas connected by a bridge stanza, but the Oracle had more to say, so this is a double Puente.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And All Is

Guillermo Gómez Gil, “Moonrise,” Public domain

 

These storms pound, over and over

the wind screams, the sea moans,

recalling what?

 

Days of blue sky,

summer friends,

a thousand ships sailing into the mists of time?

 

And then, if whispers, “please.”

 

But the moon chants from above

this is could, not always, or never,

 

they do not see or listen–

we dream of light and beauty. . .

and all is.

 

My poem from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle.

A Dream of Ancient Light

Franz Marc, The Dream

 

Born of ferocious fire clouds—

angel or ghost?

An almost there, like

a trace of perfume lingering

in the indigo night

from bright blooms blanketing fields

in colored harmony

 

~vivid and haunting~

 

somehow like a dream–

of verdant paths with deer and ponies,

where we bird-fly over the bluest river

into the secret of when

and what was, and here—

we follow tendrils of sun-songs

to the ancient light of then and if. . . forever.

 

The Oracle made me work for this puente today.  The humidity has lifted, and a mockingbird is putting on a concert in my backyard.

 

 

.

 

 

 

The Moments Between

Odilon Redon, “The Muse on Pegasus”

 

In the moments between

the dream hours

she joins my father

in the timeless night–

not asking if this universe

is real or true,

 

~only that it is~

 

all I can embrace–

the magic of a laugh,

the sun dancing in

the promise of a new morning,

and the rhapsodic songs of the stars,

lingering.

 

The Oracle gave me nearly all the words for this puente, so–I just went with it.

A Story of Dreams and Wonder

Reflection, Odilon Redon

 

Almost-color in the clouds–

dark ghosts–that blush-tipped feathers

wing away, the dreams that linger

 

~in the after-winds of time~

 

we watch the fire-heart of the sky

dazzle us with flower-flames–

singing songs of a thousand ifs

 

~in a shimmering symphony~

 

the heavens dance,

giant birds soar, their iridescent splendor a-flight,

traveling home, bright jewels in the night.

 

A double puente, which probably isn’t a form, from my Saturday morning collaboration with the Oracle. I’ve been having a hard time focusing the last couple of days, so I’m taking it.  And Redon, of course.

 

 

Climbing through the Clouds

Delaware River at West Deptford, NJ May 2020

 

Beneath dark clouds

if climbs, happy and wild,

bright flowers, shining sun-gold

as ancient river breezes rustle with why, which, when–

the seeds of deep time that grow from cold earth, warmed,

following moon song and spring’s light

to blossom here, now

I cast a soul-stone into the blue-grey water,

watch the soft rippling and listen to the wind sigh.

Wildflowers 

 

The Oracle knows everything, including all about my almost daily morning walk and mourning ritual of throwing a stone into the river as I stop for a moment and think about my mom.

And Light

“This remarkable spiral galaxy, known as NGC 4651, may look serene and peaceful as it swirls in the vast, silent emptiness of space, but don’t be fooled — it keeps a violent secret. It is believed that this galaxy consumed another smaller galaxy to become the large and beautiful spiral that we observe today. Although only a telescope like the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope, which captured this image, could give us a picture this clear, NGC 4651 can also be observed with an amateur telescope — so if you have a telescope at home and a star-gazing eye, look out for this glittering carnivorous spiral.” Text credit: ESA (European Space Agency) Image credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA, D. Leonard

 

Listen—

ask a ghost

how the universe wakes

with icy champagne kisses

spiraling in time,

feeding between sound

 

~and light~

 

drifts from the stars

you wish upon–

you dream of if

and promises made

with smiles and tears

in the language of hope.

 

Another puente from my collaboration with the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. I used words from two sets of tiles.

 

 

 

 

 

And After

 

An ache—and after–

she lives

in rain whispers,

moon music,

and dappled light

 

~winging through trees~

 

the crows call, and I laugh

a dream of ifs, why, and how

love is a recalled–

the scent of roses

on a summer breeze, lingering.

 

A puente from a collaboration with the Poetry Oracle. She truly does know everything. My mother died one week ago.