Early Morning

Heron, Early Morning on the Delaware at Red Bank Battlefield, October. ©️Merril D. Smith, 2020

Love lives a thousand times,
a dazzle of moon music; star sighs
through lightless sky and blood dreams

~the wind whispers, and the river murmurs
yes~

and if we listen–
under deep cover, the earth remembers,
blooms over and over again.

My message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. She knows the world, the seasons, and all about deep time.

Ask Why

Foggy Morning, Delaware River at Red Bank Battlefield

The goddess urges—
dream of luscious ifs,

in storms and shadow-seas
see the mist rise to honeyed sun
singing of time—
recall summer petals as floating light.

A thousand sleeps were–
in bitter after-aches,
cry at the blood moon,
ask why

it shines
while the wind whispers
heart breaths–
love, there, here, always.

It’s Open Link Night at dVerse, where Mish is hosting. I never got to Tuesday’s prompt on the vatic voice, but I consulted the Oracle today, and this is where she led me.

Soaring

Breathe if—

and let time fly into the fevered brilliance of the sky—
fire and ice, the stars know

the secret of eternity,
ghost-lights sailing in a vast sea,

a dazzling memory,
like a voice, a laugh, a kiss that lingers

from a dream
as you wake, surrendering to the now–

summer now an almost-smile
in the blue-shadowed mist.

Did I cry? Did you—
asking for angels–but

a hero gone
to the ever-after.

The stars know the secrets,
ghosts dancing to the music of the universe,

but closer, I watch the birds by the riverside
catch the wind and soar out of sight.

Vulture over the Delaware at Red Bank Battlefield Park

My message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. It was a struggle today to get a clear message. We have lost a hero. Rest in peace, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

If I Dream

If I beat away the shadows,
will the moon’s music drift
in a shining spray of silver
to dazzle-dance in haunting rhythms
till the sun wakes—then

if I rise,
languid as a summer day,
will the murky mist shift
to reveal an azure sky, where geese wing
above in raucous celebration of life?

If I ask moon, sun, geese,
will they tell me the secrets
of why and when and nevermore—
of how time is a dream, and how dreamtime flutters
and flits, like leaves in the wind?

If I dream of you,
of laughter flowering,
dropping seeds in my heart
do you grow and bloom–
to live forever?

It took me all day today to visit and get my message from the poetry Oracle. I took the photo this morning. It’s a beautiful day here.

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it All?

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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. 

 

 

 

 

The Universe in Motion

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Comet Hale-Bopp Attribution: Philipp Salzgeber / CC BY-SA 2.0 AT (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/at/deed.en)

Born before our before,

traveling till after our after,

ice and dust of timeless time,

 

the molecules of cosmic gases,

atoms of our world, forever

and after

 

the comet revolves through space

around the sun–our shining star–

our light-filled center, we circle it

 

year after year, through revolutions,

revelations in art, technology, war

to peace and back to war, revolve, resolve

 

to see this ball of light,

the icy comma tail–

it comes and goes

 

and we continue, revolving

electrons within us spin,

looking to connect

 

to something,

We’re attracted, we’re repulsed–

between darkness and light,

 

revolving

revolving

revolving.

 

I’m hosting dVerse Poetics today. The prompt is revolution.Come join us!

Embrace It

IMG_3822

 

In shadow dreams,

the moon whispers, honey-voiced,

of wonders and if

love comes like a summer storm

 

embrace it–

 

but bring a cat–

and champagne–

for time circles

haunted by almost and never—

through open windows—look, listen

as the universe laughs

in sparkling light

 

a spray of diamonds on velvet,

beyond reach, but constant.

 

It took some time to get my message from the Oracle today–though she was very clear about the cat and champagne.

 

 

 

 

 

Circles

Puddle Reflection May 2020

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 175th poetry challenge!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Power: NaPoWriMo, Day 3

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Flowers have a power–

in their beauty they fascinate,

falling in April showers,

almost without weight,

 

ethereal in form,

adrift to winds of fate–

do they weather the storm,

acclimate, accommodate

 

to changing times?

The sun’s rising position

also creates shadowed lines.

The flowers, without ambition,

 

hold some power nonetheless,

ensorcelling spirits lure squirrels and birds,

send ramblers on quixotic quests

with cockeyed verbs and lovesick words.

 

But now, robin and mockingbird know,

from the bowers, small throats mightily sing–

so, away the cold and the snow

and come the irresistible songs of spring.

 

Thus, the power of flowers

though it seems the most fleeting of things

fuels hope and love through hours

to soar high on feathered wings.

 

The prompt for Day 3 of NaPoWriMo asked us to create word banks and to use rhymes and repeat words. I took some words from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle and then went from there.