The Dreams that Dance

His thoughts                            And prayers

were broken-winged               she thought, meaningless things

never soaring                          sometimes boring, never driving

far                                            to the stars, where she longed to go,

but earth-tethered                     unfeathered, she remained

he stayed, staid,                       while she longed for blazing rays,

only in night’s dreamscape wandering high      to dance together in the sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A contrapuntal poem for dVerse, where Paul is tending the bar. My poem is three separate poems.

 

 

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Waves Again (and Again), NaPoWriMo, Day 27

No flask, no wine, no book of verse, this night

We reach for stars and moon, seek gleams of light

Hear the silver streams from the humming moon

Time and rhythms flow, in eternal rites

 

Upon the sand, waves pitch and break and roar

While spindrift flicks in salted breeze to shore

And you with me, now standing hand in hand

Watching the sea, waiting for dreams, and more.

 

Ilya Repin, “What Freedom”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m off prompt for today’s NaPoWriMo challenge. I took bits of yesterday’s NaPoWriMo poem and tribute line from Omar Khayyam’s famous verse for this attempt at a Rubaiyat for Frank Hubeny’s challenge on dVerse.

 

 

 

 

 

The Dance of Space, NaPoWriMo, Day 22

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt asks us to “take one of the following statements of something impossible, and then write a poem in which the impossible thing happens. I chose this one:

The stars cannot rearrange themselves in the sky.

 

Somewhere in space, stars always sing,

and in a distance place, they also dance,

in quadrille or waltz, they sway and swing,

they arrange themselves, but not by chance.

 

And in a distant place, they also dance,

sometimes, a stellar pas de deux–

they arrange themselves, but not by chance–

of course, they do, well, wouldn’t you?

 

Sometimes, a stellar pas de deux

to the carillon of time’s dawn

of course, they do, well, wouldn’t you—

move with joy, before it’s gone?

 

To the carillon of time’s dawn

in quadrille or waltz, they sway and swing,

move with joy before it’s gone—

somewhere in space, stars always sing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“However, what it is really exciting about NGC 1097 is that it is not wandering alone through space. It has two small galaxy companions, which dance “the dance of stars and the dance of space” like the gracious dancer of the famous poem The Dancer by Khalil Gibran.”

Credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA. Acknowledgement: E. Sturdivant

 

Past and Future, Touched

“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious.”

–Stephen Hawking

she once had

a mortal body

long ago–

or was it?

Unbound by time, she’s unsure

drifting in moonlight. . .

 

and starlight

and in brightest sun–

it is all

part of her

and she of it. Wandering,

she touches your heart–

 

you feel it,

a shock, fear–and awe,

but also

desire

for knowledge. Look at the stars–

time and space folding

 

Embed from Getty Images

 

This is for dVerse. We were asked to write a shadorma with the prompt “phantom.” I’ve done a series of connecting shadorma stanzas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burning–Quadrille

She flies among the stars

burning with incandescent fire,

unbound by time or space.

She is and was and will be always–

made of what—of blazing rays,

of tomorrows and todays?

You may see her in the night–

perhaps. . . that streak of light.

 

 

Embed from Getty Images

 

 

This is a quadrille for dVerse. Victoria asked us to use the word burn.

 

 

If (We Could Fly)

If (We Could Fly)

If . . .
we could fly
through the wild universe
on shimmering wings,
kiss in clouds of fire
and watch the birth of moons–
if . . .
we could sing with the stars
with voices that surface from our souls–
if we. . .
dazzling and glimmer-garbed,
could remember these nighttime journeys–
would our silvered spirits
ever return–
glistening and luminescent,
open-eyed and wiser?

Federico Beltran Masses, “Under the Stars,” Wikipedia Commons

I wrote this poem a while ago, but I never published it. This is for Frank of A Frank Angle’s “If” Challenge. It’s an open challenge–stories, poems, essays–anything using If.  Check it out!

 

Catch a Star

This was inspired by a poem Jane posted and our comments.

 

In the darkness, catch the stars

keep them, hold them, in a jar

with memories of long ago. . .

then on the nights when thoughts are bleakest,

let one go and watch it seek its

dream-mist companions of the light–

watch them floating, soaring high—

to the rhythm of your heartbeats, fly

on intangible wings to empyrean heights

follow fly, and do not stop or wonder why,

but in the darkness, grasp the jar

catch, hold fast, a glimmering star.

 

Anything But Black

ESO’s various observatory sites in Chile — Paranal, La Silla, Chajnantor — boast enviably low levels of light pollution. However, the skies overhead are rarely pitch-black! As shown in this image of Paranal Observatory, the skies regularly display a myriad of colours and astronomical sights, from the plane of the Milky Way shining brightly overhead to the orange-hued speck of Mars (left), the starry constellations of Scorpius and Orion, and the magenta splash of the Carina Nebula (upper middle). Despite the remote location there are also occasional signs of human activity, for example the sequence of lamps seen in the centre of the frame. These faint lights illuminate the route from the Very Large Telescope (VLT) to the Visible and Infrared Survey Telescope for Astronomy (VISTA) where this image was taken. Due to the highly sensitive camera this photograph also showcases a mysterious phenomenon called airglow. The night sky is ablaze with deep red and eerie green hues, caused by the faint glow of Earth’s atmosphere. Because of airglow, no observatory site on Earth could ever be absolutely, completely dark — although ESO’s do come pretty close. This image was taken by talented astronomer and photographer Yuri Beletsky, a member of the 2016 ESO Fulldome Expedition team. This team visited Chile to gather spectacular images for use in the ESO Supernova Planetarium & Visitor Centre.

 

 

New Year’s Doorways: Haibun Quadrille

This 44-word Haibun is for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge, where the challenge was to use synonyms for ambition and change, and it is also a quadrille for dVerse, where Grace asked us to use the word leap.

 

In the past, I leaped into the new year with aspirations. Now I glide on the slipstream of ghosts. Past, future merge in star songs. I wonder if doorways are opening or closing?

 

Pirouetting stars–

old year leaps into the new

embraced by moonlight  

 

 

Embed from Getty Images

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sweet Stars of Christmas: Haibun

Monday Morning Musings:

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”

–Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

 

On Christmas, I see the past, present, and future appear. Perhaps not as actual ghosts, but as memories, experiences, and wishes. As we decorate Christmas cookies, I think of all the times I did this with our daughters. My husband declares this is the first time he has ever frosted the cookies. Perhaps it’s true. My sugar cookies have stars with five points and stars with six points. They’re all equally sweet and delicious. The Hanukkah candles and the Christmas lights both glow in the winter darkness, symbolizing miracles and bringing hope. This year, I give one daughter Hanukkah presents with a Hello Kitty! Christmas card on Christmas Eve day, when we gather with my niece and her family. In the background, Christmas songs written by Jewish men softly play. We sit around a table in a room decorated for Christmas and discuss ancestors in Belarus and Ukraine, people who never celebrated this holiday.

How did they get here, my niece asks? How did they have the means to leave? When she was a girl, my father’s mother hid in a barn during a pogrom. Somehow, they—some of them–found the means to leave, and to come to a country where they were not persecuted for their religious beliefs and culture. Their ghosts appear briefly and stand around us. Perhaps they would not approve of these goyische celebrations, but I hope they’d sense the love. Here and now we eat and laugh together, even as we miss those no longer with us. We will miss our daughters on Christmas, and I will miss being awakened by hearing them sing “Christmas Time is Here” early in morning. But now on Christmas Eve, my husband and I drink mulled wine and watch It’s a Wonderful Life, and I think yes, it is.

 

ancient stars shimmer,

ghost light of winter’s hope

this scintillation

I’m linking this Monday Morning Musings to Frank Tassone’s Christmas Haiku challenge.

Wishing all of you a joyous holiday season filled with peace, hope, love, and laughter!

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