Signpost

Odilon Redon, Panneau décoratif

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A signpost

symbol-scarred but faint,

faded from

time’s passage.

But on your heart, ancestors

created a map

 

of past words

and worlds, crisscrossed, or

parallel?

Infinite

possibilities exist—

light-time blends and bends

 

and you know

the road circles round

with tangled,

never straight lines.

There –the traces of stars’ dust

shimmers at your feet.

 

Now has passed,

the future’s ahead

like headlights

on night roads,

a guide. Turn into the spin,

drive to tomorrow.

 

This is for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday where the theme word is map. Ken’s poem inspired mine. I had intended to write a gogyohka in response, but instead ended up with another shadorma sequence, which is not exactly a response, but when I read his,  I thought of signposts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Light of Someday

 

Cry, it is

the light leaving. You

sleep to the

rails’ rhythm

singing lonesome blues. You hear,

you’ll never return.

 

 

But maybe

you will, someday, healed

of what was–

after trails,

sea, stars share their magic, heart-

haunted you’ll live on.

 

This is a shadorma sequence for Colleen’s Photo Challenge, and also for Open Link Night at dVerse, where Linda is hosting. This is my first post with the new editor. So, I hope it all worked out. 

 

 

 

Is it All?

Vincent van Gogh, Starry Night Over the Rhone

 

Is it all

a dark dance? Fools laugh

from a vast

emptiness—

hearts or brain? I remember

stars’ light lingers long–

 

time’s magic

seen after it’s gone–

heart’s-fire,

black-erased,

loss and embraced balanced, moon-

aches and pink roses

 

beneath a blue sky–

both ifs existing

in time and

in dreams, we

soar through diamond-sprayed skies, sing

with stars. Shine, reborn.

 

 

My message from the Oracle in a Shadorma sequence, also for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge. 

 

 

 

 

Shifted Sands

Ocean City, NJ June 2020

 

Great women

often forgotten,

and their marks

tide-shifted

till their footprints are erased–

still their ghosts whisper

 

murmuring

with knowledge we’ve lost,

unseen and

swept away,

their hidden figures buried

in the sands of time.

 

A double shadorma  for Colleen’s tanka Tuesday challenge. Pat R.’s theme asked us to consider Longfellow’s “Psalm of Life” poem and/or use it as a source of found poetry. Well, you can see what that poem does to me. 😏

From Beneath

 

From beneath,

under, and within

monsters come–

arising

from the depths they smile at you

offering you gifts

 

but light drifts,

blue-shifting nearer

in pinpricks

and glimmers

radiating from above,

brightening beauty, truth

 

is constant,

never ebbing or

flowing, though

it tumbles

blown by foul winds, yet always

seeking the surface.

 

A shadorma sequence for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday prompt . This time, an ekphrastic challenge, using the photo above, supplied by Vashti Q. Vega.

It made me think of this song because my daughters used to go around singing it.

 

Circles

Vassily Kandinsky, “Several Circles”

 

In transit

we wander, seeking

what? Circles

unbroken

form constants, our existence,

balanced symmetry–

 

light and dark

not opposites, but

shifted hues

shimmering

through time and space, reborn in

stars, flowers, the sea.

 

For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge, a shadorma sequence, using synonyms for the words Kerfe chose, transition and harmony. I hadn’t intended to write about circles, but since Kerfe and I seem stuck on them, I suppose it’s not unexpected.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Circles

Puddle Reflection, May 2020. Upside down world, fleeting or timeless?

 

And after,

do the birds still sing–

the bardo

in-between

past and future, everything

rippling, light circles

 

to before,

the after, before

time begins,

radiant

waves humming—the sound of dreams–

forever’s spindrift.

 

A shadorma sequence for Colleen’s challenge because she admired this photo I took during a morning walk when I got caught in the rain. The challenge theme is “the day after,” chosen by Elizabeth of Tea & Paper. Also, this is Colleen’s 175^th poetry challenge!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving On, NaPoWriMo2020, Day 15

Delaware River at sunrise, moving on.  April 2020. West Deptford, NJ

 

Waiting now–

ghosts and dreamers drift

on ifs, when

hope moves on,

the world is shaken—but watch–

it tilts, seeking light.

 

A shadorma for Day 15.  The NaPoWriMo  prompt for today is to write a poem based on a song or music. I chose a favorite, “Move On” from Sunday in the Park with George.  Probably Sondheim has a song for everything. I feel like we’ve all been doing a lot of waiting. I took this photo yesterday morning when I went out walking while I was grieving for my cat and the world.

Here’s Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin singing “Move On.”

 

 

 

 

Moon-glow Memories

Image Credit: © Ritu Bhathal

 

Welcome home

the glow said to me–

weary from

work and time

dragging me down. But light

keeps shadows at bay–

 

memories, they stay,

in moonlit places–

yet faces,

dark creatures

still slither into my dreams–

till dawn, and I’m free—

 

moon-glow memories

dance the way we did

remember?

Hand-in-hand

we moved, kissed, together said

words of love, now gone.

 

A shadorma sequence for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, using Ritu  Bhathal’s photo prompt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Syncopation

 

 

 

Clouds raced

across the night sky,

we watched them

together,

heartbeats in syncopation,

the stars dancing on.

 

A shadorma for  Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday.