Come, ask for color—
a fired sky, a dazzle-day,
brilliant blue and champagne-clouded
like kisses of joy
falling–
go fish for them
in the vast sea of the universe,
storm-tumbled
secret voices, lingering
in ghost-whispered rhythms
exploring
all, how, when,
and if roses recall summer–
and if you do.
Today’s message from the Oracle with a photo from this morning. It’s unseasonably warm, but it was damp and foggy earlier this morning.
© 2020 Frank J. Tassone
We stand on a precipice, nation and world. Fissured by plague and threats to democracy, we are faltering, close to tumbling into an abyss. Is this the beginning of the end? Or merely a ripple in the waves of time? I leave the angry and weary voices to walk, looking for beauty in the bright colors around me. A chipmunk scurries by. Deer shyly graze, turkeys strut through the long grass, and blackbirds give a trilling chink as they fly overhead.
I watch the sun rising over the river, making it sparkle. It know it’s physics, but I can also see the magic. We need both.
bare branches turn green,
brown leaves fall into river–
past floats to future
©️Merril D. Smith 2020
A Haibun for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Haibun prompt, using Frank Tassone’s photo at the top for inspiration, and my photo at the end.
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.
