Sleek pelts silvered in moon-spray, brown eyes see only each other, in this monochrome world the slivered crescent’s too high, and the twinkling birds too far away, though their lullabies soothe the midnight sea. There are only whispers, the susurration of the wind, the dreams of fish that arc above the surface, nocturnal mutterings—no danger tonight,
they touch nose to nose, then swiftly, fin-footed, in graceful pas de deux, they dance beneath the waves.
For Day 9 of Paul Brookes Ekphrastic Challenge. You can see all the art and read all the poems here.
Dawn blush lightens the grey over the rippling river heron poses in sunrise salutation
in silvered blues beauty comes through shadows to light
waves roll out and slide back in the moon waxes and wanes, and time flows,
through tide pools reflecting clouds and light, giving shelter to dreams.
Today is Yom Kippur, so I’m not going to do a usual MMM post. I don’t want to discuss politics, or even my past week. With so much awfulness in the world–and more likely to come–I felt an especial need for beauty this morning. I was fortunate. As soon as I walked into the park, I saw these two young deer. Then I saw the heron, and the beauty of the sky took my breath away. Magic moments. Wishing some beauty, love, kindness–and magic, too, to all of you in the coming year.
Beat away the aching time in river blues, see serene, sublime
in those rippling rhythms. The tide rolls in, and thus begins another round of what and when and who wins
the life and death struggles, the eagle soars, swoops, a pounce there goes the fish, squirrel, another ounce, but we can’t denounce
an avian predator who wants to eat, but human ones, we must unseat.
I see the lawn-stuck signs of misguided fools who think freedom comes with soundbite slogans–but we’re on the brink
standing on a precipice, tottering, about to fall while they embrace the treacherous, Russians and all–
the lies they think are fine, wish them away, spin, deny in sheep-like flocks they gather, unmasked, I sigh
as I walk, watch the geese honk and fly greeting each other, hello, goodbye
I say, wonder what it’s like to twirl and soar and then, I go home to bake some more,
to dip bread and apples in honey’s sweetness to wish for good to flourish, feeling a completeness
of life with loved ones, though from afar with a world increasingly troubled and bizarre.
Every day more and more, surpassing– we’re saddened by news of a hero’s passing.
More wine, more honey talk of this and that, find something funny—
hold on to love (is love is love is love is love is love) dance when you can, look for beauty above
and all around, fight for justice and truth— remember our heroes, remember Ruth.
We celebrated the first night of Rosh Hashanah with a Zoom dinner with our daughters and their spouses. I don’t know how to make a small holiday meal, even though there are just two of us here. We heard about the death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg when the news flashed on a daughter’s phone.
Merril’s Movie Club: We saw And Then We Danced, which now is free on Amazon Prime. We had seen previews for it before the pandemic hit, and though I enjoyed the movie, it would have been wonderful to see it on a big screen. The film is about Merab, a member of Georgia’s National Dance Ensemble. It’s an art form that is beautiful, but rigid, and steeped in tradition. Merab and a new dancer, Iralki are first rivals, but then attracted to each other. It is dangerous to be gay in Georgia (the country, not the state). The government would not finance the movie, and there were bodyguards on the set. The choreographer remains anonymous. I fear this is what it could be like here. My husband and I both liked the movie very much. The drumming music is great. The subtitles could be better, and they even though I watch subtitled movies all the time, I had to full with the settings.
We labor, belabor, debate, defend fend for ourselves, hope for trends
to alter course, reverse, against the wind we traverse, carrying the past in heart and mind,
find that light is a constant, but time is not— still we dine and drink some wine
without the rhythm and beats of city streets reflections found in river, not in town—
I find beauty all around.
It doesn’t change what is, or what may be— catastrophe, democracy’s fall, more plagues
all this or other. I read horror tales of ghosts less scary than most of what is real, or almost–the boasts
of the fascist chiefs, the spreading of so many false beliefs rumors can be deadly, and I think of the imposter priest
who despite his flaws, gets at the truth, and heals a village. So many maligned, but is there is goodness in us all?
Perhaps. Though it may be hard to tell. Crimes of passion, crimes of war, crimes of vengeance—so many more—
the people we neglect, the things we regret. And yet, the moon shines silver in the night,
the sky is blue, the sun is bright. I walk through shadows, and into light. Watch as birds take sudden flight—soar, unbound—
beauty all around.
Today is Labor Day here in the U.S. I took a look at my post from last year. So much has changed. This is a bit of a response to that, I suppose. I kept the format of couplets, though not ending rhymes.
Merril’s Movie, TV, and Whatever Club: We saw the Polish movie, Corpus Christi. It was Poland’s entry this past year for the Academy Awards. We had seen previews for it. I’m not sure if it made it to the theater in Philadelphia before they closed or not. In any case, we both thought it was excellent. Almost like old times, we discussed it over wine and dinner—though our discussion was the next day at a local winery.
We watched the French mystery series, Le Chalet with an earworm of a title song—even for those of us who don’t really speak French. It seemed like it was going to be a horror story at the beginning, but it turned out to be similar to an old-fashioned mystery, a Ten Little Indians sort of tale though with two timelines. We both liked it, though it was a bit confusing sorting out the characters for a while. We’re currently watching a Finnish mystery, Deadwind. It’s good, and I think we will become more involved with it as it goes on. There are lots of twists and turns—what seems like a straightforward murder case is not (of course). Both of these are on Netflix.
I just finished reading The Invited by Jennifer McMahon, a ghost story and also a mystery with different timelines and connecting stories. So, you know, a good Merril book. And my favorite podcast Ghost in the Burbs is back. Yay!
Oh, but speaking of favorite podcasts, the delightful Damien Donnelly now has a podcast. So. . . I guess that’s also my favorite (different genres). 😀
Sun and clouds reflected on the surface of the Delaware River, Feb. 24, 2020 Merril D. Smith
I watch the apricot sun settle
in feathered-grey clouds
reflected in the water
the rocks on the shore–
washed by the river,
polished by the rain,
burnished in the golden glow
I walk with long shadow legs
into the twilight,
as the geese honk farewell.
Betelgeuse may soon explode–
but I look up at the moon, waxing,
it will be here long after I’m gone,
but now, it lights my way
home to you.
This poem is for my dVerse prompt, Impermanence. So, I didn’t come up with anything particularly unique because I was inspired by this photo I took yesterday while walking by the river. Come join us with your thoughts.
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.