Love is a Song: Ghazal

“Love is raw as freshly cut meat,

mean as a beetle on the track of dung”

~ Jim Harrison  from Songs of Unreason

 

It can be painful and raw, sometimes it’s wrong, but love is a song.

It’s sung both in hearts and in brains–if given free rein–because love is a song.

 

It makes lovers dance and full of romance because love is a song.

But what happens when dampened, or gone with dawn, will you still say love is a song?

 

It can make someone evil, cause great upheaval, but love is a song

with notes that can sway, make some go and some stay for the love of love is a song.

 

You can love one child or ten, again and again, because love is a song

that makes mothers sigh when parted, cry broken-hearted, because love is a song.

 

The notes can be doleful and soulful and wonderous and wise because love is a song

that grows and expands without any demands—love is love is love is love is love is a song.

 

Love of country is sung, by those with forked-tongues, because love is a song

to convince some not to think, or to look at the brink, just sing that love is a song.

 

Its music can frighten, can make our hearts tighten, but love is a song

that may protect a few or cause trouble anew, but love is a song.

 

Listen to the stars and moon, listen to the celestial tunes—high above love is a song.

Listen to the birds and bees, listen to the earthly seas, listen long and sing along, love is a song.

 

This ghazal is for Day 20 of Jilly’s 28 Days of Unreason, poetry inspired by Jim Harrion’s poetry (and other works).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Distant Diamonds

Diamonds rain on distant worlds

through far-flung light, they’re hurled

as if in a dream, or time-stopped scheme

she sees this sight, this bright delight

sparkling glimmers in the night,

amongst them beings with feathered, icy arms

who dazzle with their unearthly charms

murmuring as they her enwound

twirling her so up is down, and all around

the sound surrounds–

the voices of the planets and stars,

and quasars hum and pulse in song,

and she wants to sing along

bewitched by time and space

but then it’s gone, this now elusive place–

yet when she hears the rain at night

she remembers the bewitching sounds, the transcendent light,

the sight of diamonds sparkling from the sky

and remembers that once she reached and she could fly

 

PIA21891_SaturnRings

“This image of Saturn’s rings was taken by NASA’s Cassini spacecraft on Sept. 13, 2017. It is among the last images Cassini sent back to Earth.”

 

I’m linking this to dVerse’s Open Link. Björn invites us with the holiday spirit in mind and the winter solstice soon to come. I brought sparkly space diamonds to the party. dVerse is taking a two-week holiday break.

Yesterday was my birthday. It snowed and things didn’t quite go right, but I read that it might rain diamonds on planets such as Saturn, Jupiter, and  Neptune, and I thought how beautiful that must be.

 

 

 

 

Star Lullabies: Shadorma

The stars sing

shimmery sun songs.

Glimmering,

they gambol,

sending their music to us–

magic from the sky.

 

It tumbles,

spindrift of night seas,

as stars dance

and wander.

Bewitching time lullabies,

lulling us to sleep.

 

Credit: ESA/Hubble; NASA, ESA and the Hubble Heritage (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration

Last week was shadows, and this week seems to be stars. Yesterday a quadrille, today a shadorma for Eliot of Along the Instertice’s November Shadorma Challenge, Day 8.

This is also for dVerse, where Lillian has asked us to write a poem with inspiration from a Hubble Telescope photo. (She supplied four.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Phoenix Wings

When we soared on Phoenix wings,

reborn from the ashes of the stars

flying in the slipstream of time,

then I knew I loved you–

this time getting it right–

creatures of the light

clothed in cloud filament,

dancing in rhythm

to the music of the universe

Sunrise, National Park, NJ

 

I loved the first line of Jane Dougherty’s poem, “Heaven’s High,” so much that I used it for the first line of mine. Thanks, Jane! J