But at last we ask
as days fast-wane–
what we must recall
of sun on rocks,
and sprays of petals pink
against an impossible blue–
does the moon hum
We ask without language
for more words;
we ask to start over.
The Oracle knows what is going on around us. I decided to also incorporate the “More Words” “Start Over” message at the bottom of the magnetic poetry screen. The photo was taken last April.
I hear gorgeous music
in this sky of purple-pink–
it whispers a symphony of when
the sea will still sing
of blue moons
and coming storms
screaming in silver spray–
in the cool grey water
to taste the wind
on their tongues
and feel the light of distant stars
shimmering through the mist of time.
My Saturday morning collaboration with the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. This started as a puente, but then it kept going. Sometimes the Oracle has more to say.
The only tree on the block in bloom, Walnut Street, Philadelphia.
Once the moon hummed
in a dazzling glow
and we who wanted–
and longed for if–
walked through now
listening to our own hearts
beneath sweet budding branches,
as pink and red blooms burst open,
the music of life
plays a symphony,
luscious and sweet
The Oracle gave me this puente today. It’s been a crazy week. The world still seems to be tilting while we’re holding on. I thought we were in lock down today, but it was a false alarm.
I apologize for the delay in reading posts. I’m going to take the opportunity to get some errands done today while I still can, but I’ll be catching up on reading this weekend.
Away the bitterness of aching hearts,
the shadowed mist of fears
that cycle with brown and blossom
with dreams of honey-gold
as you watch the moon glow silver after spring storms
gust with purple fury
and grey clouds sail across the indigo night sea
till the sun rises—
now you can almost smell the scent of peaches
in her rays, hear the tinkling bell-voices of jonquils
sensing if. . .breathing,
beating in the heart of today.
Today’s message from the Oracle. The world is very scary now and filled with hate and ignorance, but at least there are spring flowers that rise predictably from bulbs year after year.
Vincent van Gogh – Starry Night on the Rhone, 1888
Beneath a spray of tiny diamonds
the wind whispers a dream–
a poem murmured,
of a path through cloud blossoms
in the universe’s garden–
time lingers there
~in secret rhythms~
shadows dance here
under the honeyed moon
and the air carries the scent of if,
like the air before a storm,
as I wake, remembering
stars falling in fragrant petals
A puente from a collaboration with the Oracle. Most of the words came from one set of tiles, with a few from another set. I was dreaming poetry the other night–it wasn’t this–but the Oracle knows. . .
“Powerful gushers of energy from seething stars can sculpt eerie-looking figures with long, flowing veils of gas and dust. One striking example is “the Ghost of Cassiopeia,” officially known as IC 63, located 550 light-years away in the constellation Cassiopeia the Queen.” Image Credits: NASA, ESA and STScI; Acknowledgment: H. Arab (University of Strasbourg)
Beneath the brown,
a seed grows green,
Beneath the frost,
nature murmurs a song,
as after the rain,
spring sings of time
in a fall of pink petals
and ghosts sail
through a universe
with star rhythms
and we embrace the fire
from a champagne cloud,
like a night kiss,
the brilliance of eternity
in our blood.
I took words from three sets of tiles, and the Oracle and I collaborated on this poem. Mostly her, I just added the articles and such. I think the link is still open for Open Link Night on dVerse, where Lillian is hosting from her vacation retreat, so I’m linking this there.
Peder Severin Krøyer [Public domain] “Summer Evening at Skagen beach, the artist and his wife”
Light sings over the sea
as the moon rises,
a silver coin floating in a purple sky
full of secrets,
she sails into the morning
joy, we wake,
open the window to if,
listening for that sea song
that lingers like a laugh
in the dark.
Another collaborative puente from the Oracle. The first line came from one set of tiles, and the rest came from another set. I remembered this painting after I wrote the poem (in case anyone is wondering). 😉
Franz Marc, Blue Horses
Clouds of coffee and steel part with a blush,
red sky voices the universe’s secrets,
ghosts of stardust, born in brilliant dazzle,
lingering, exploring time,
~and all the ifs~
dance on a green breeze’s laugh
letting you picture the possibilities–
a corduroy heart can be patched,
a world of blue horses wakes. Listen.
Another collaborative Puente with the Oracle, though most of the words came from her, and she clearly likes color.
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~
linger with spirits the color of dusk
and if I sing of if,
sing with me in harmony,
following the moon.
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.
In this sanctuary here
I wander, take quiet breaths
as squirrels rustle
in harmony with wind and water,
and if I feel the storm coming—
~there’s a soft shine in the distance~
as we stroll, night lights
in a world of when, its own poetry
where spirits watch over us
in the cold night
and if they feel the storm coming—
still, there the light shines soft in the distance.
I collaborated with the Oracle for this variation on a Puente. (Yes, that’s what I’m going to call it.) I was thinking of taking a walk in the park this moring, but the rain is pounding on my windows right now.