If in the whisper of sea, the rolling rush and breathy brush of storm-tossed waves, kissing the shore, you dream of moon-song, then wake to hear the symphony of light lingering– take my hand, in the peach-petaled sun-glow, to walk through shadows, there beneath the craggy cliffs still heart-haunted, the universe rests—yet– listen. Do you hear summer sing? Through open windows, ghosts soar embracing hereafter, as flowers bloom again, as love blooms again, as the sky blooms pink and red—again and again, and again.
Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. It’s been a long, difficult year, and Covid with new variants is still here, but with vaccinations, the world–at least my part of the world–is opening up again. The Oracle always knows. We had a beautiful day yesterday, though we didn’t go to the beach this year. (There will be photos on Monday.)
And in the after of dreams do you whisper why, as purple shadows hover, drift, shift, slide, and sigh? Death-doused year passes, robins come again, pinked dawn sings—hope comes, hands clasped
we embrace, sun’s soft shimmer attracts gathered gulls, to hear mockingbird perform– warbles and chatter. Cruelty of spring comes in remembrance–lives lost— but still—daffodils.
For dVerse, Grace has asked us to write a seguidilla.
“The Seguidilla is: • stanzaic, written in any number of 2 part septets. (7 lines) • syllabic, 7-5-7-5 : 5-7-5 per line. There is a slight pause between L4 and L5 suggesting L4 should be end-stopped. • rhymed by assonance xAxABxB or xAxABAB. x being unrhymed. True rhyme is generally not used. • composed with a volta or change in thought between L4 and L5. • sometimes serves as a conclusion for another verse.”
Yesterday was the anniversary of the declaration of the current pandemic. Last April my mom died of Covid, the same week one of our cats died. But I’m feeling hope in the air with vaccinations and spring weather. Yesterday, our first daffodil of the season bloomed. This morning, I heard a mockingbird putting on quite a concert.
I apologize for posting across social media, but some people follow me only on this blog. I an honored to have three poems in David L. O’Nan’s massive (over 300 pages) anthology, Poets of 2020. There are so many wonderful poets in this volume–many well-known names! The book is available in several formats. Here’s the US link.
“It’s just that masks are terribly comfortable — I think everyone will be wearing them in the future,” –Westley in The Princess Bride
Inconceivable and unbelievable the world has become
plague-filled and fire-flashed now, ashes fill the sky,
and sudden storms come surging, while people plead, urging
the powers-that-be to see what is and to agree
on what is needed. More than hope and prayers, some care
must be taken if we’re to survive, herd immunity and hive minds–
we seek solutions from concepts of animals and nature—but I watch them, charmed,
admiring even the funny walks of birds, a turkey, like a little dinosaur, and somewhat absurd,
yet most protect their young—and some mate for life. Perhaps we should look to wildlife
for a portrait of true love. Difficult to see now in this time of masks and isolation,
the frustration of privation and desolation, the death of loved ones, the vexation over celebrations
that shouldn’t be, until we’re vaccinated or virus-free– When will that be?
I sigh and bake, take long walks, rake my fingers through my greying hair–
there, in front of me, a family of deer, all clear, I think, as they dart across the street—
leaving me to admire their spirit and grace, a trace of wonder stays within
to ease the stress of every single day. I stand by the riverside watch a heron, stay
longer than I planned—but these moments of water and sky and watching the birds spread wings and fly
it’s something I do, observe the colors of river and sand– this I understand,
time flows at different speeds and rates, fast in a dream, slow when we wait,
but either way, we’re specks in a vast array. Time may be infinite, or
perhaps it loops, swooping future into past or giving us another chance
to seek true love, or defy death with sweetened pill, better than nevermore, is maybe it will.
A very late MMM because I’m trying to finish some work. And, I’ll be back in just a bit because I’m hosting dVerse today.
This past week was strange, the weather shifting from humid summer to clear autumn. Friday, as you all know, was the 19th anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attack. It was a gloomy day, but the next day was bright, beautiful, gorgeous, which I will hope is an omen. I’ve been seeing a heron almost every morning at the river at the battlefield park. We watched The Princess Bride on Saturday night in preparation for the livestream reading with much of the original cast that took place last night. It was a fundraiser for Wisconsin Democrats in support of Joe Biden. The livestream drew of 100,000 viewers, and though there were a few technical problems, it was great fun. More importantly, it might help in November. It’s inconceivable how we will survive four more years with the current resident of the White House.
A laugh wings– flies through memories and dreams. Sings like a mockingbird, repeats again, imprinted in our minds, within our genes– well, who’s to say? We remember a glance, words said—heart-haunted— we grasp, hold.
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, I’m trying a triquain, a form I found on Shadow Poetry. “The Triquain, created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a poem with several creative variences and can be a rhyming or non-rhyming verse. The simpliest form is a poem made up of 7 lines with 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, and 3 syllables in this order.” [Misspellings in original.]
I’m also linking this to dVerse, Open Link Night, where Grace is hosting.
Like most people I’m heartsore and weary. Since November 2016, the majority of Americans have been in shock, but the situation in our country, and in the world, continues to deteriorate. I know I’m fortunate to have a home, a loving husband, daughters, sisters, and friends, and food to eat. I have places where I can walk without fear. But, I’m worn from taking care of my mom, worn from her dying, worn my cat dying, of so many people dying. . .while the lies and the lack of leadership here have led to more deaths. I don’t know how to express all this. There are others who can say it better, but I write in poetry. So this was today, my musing. (Some of the photos come from this week, and some are older photos.)
On an entirely different note because we all need escapes, Merril’s Movie Club:The Vast of Night, a new movie on Amazon is a lot of fun. We ordered takeout Saturday night and had a movie night. It’s sort of a retro sci-fi movie that pays homage to The Twilight Zone and old sci-fi movies. One review I read said something about how you’ve seen the story lots of times before, but it’s the way it’s told. We both enjoyed it a lot.
We also watched the show Undone on Amazon, and even though I’m not normally a fan of animated shows, this is such a Merril show. I learned that this type of animation is called rotoscoping. The show is funny, profound, weird, moving, and deals with moving through time and space, mental illness, deaf culture, indigenous cultures, family. . .each episode is less than half an hour.