Outside the visible, the veil persists, a misted crown,
a canopy to shelter woodlands from both up and down–
the spirits dance their circles through the portals of the clouds,
beyond enclosure following the songs of the unknown.
With wings of color bearing light and magic on the air,
the alchemy of green and gold renews and then repairs
this ancient symbiosis moored to currents at its core
awakening new seeds, building a bridge from here to there.
The El Oro Parakeet is an endangered bird living in the Andes cloud forest of Southwestern Ecuador. Cloud forests are also endangered throughout the world. You can read about them here.
This is my first attempt at a rubaiyat poem, the featured form at dVerse for February. I could not make 13 syllables work, so I ended up with 14. I also fudged the rhymes a bit. I don’t usually write long lines, and that was what I found to be the biggest challenge for me.
A WordPress tradition. Here’s my rendition of one of my favorite birds, the owl.
And just because he/she appeared next door, here’s a shot of a turkey vulture eating some squirrel sushi.
Not a drawing but too good not to share. Have a great weekend!
one set of boot tracks
grey clouds mingle with absence
paths left untrodden
For a long time I started each month with a collage grid and a haiku. This month, having done a grey February mandala (perhaps next month a grid), I decided to take up Frank Tassone’s challenge to honor poet Rachel Sutcliffe by writing haiku inspired by her words.
his death day
in graveyard shadows
voices now lost to the wind
crows calling grey skies
Hopefully the grey will clear out before February’s end…
see branches growing solid
in the rising light–
the cries of solitary
forms in motion–fleeting, dark
I’ve been drawing the branches outside my window when I wake up. Above is a grid of 9 of them. In the early morning light, the birds are like shadows that come and go.
Another poem about branches and birds, Tess Gallagher’s wonderful “Choices”, can be found here.
Happy Draw a Bird Day!
Autumn. I fall into disrepair. The sky still covers me, but my shadow dissolves into the remains of the golden ocean that heretofore eddied and flowed at my feet. My skin lies ragged, unfilled.
I was crowned, once, with dark discordant ornaments. They sit on other thrones now, unrepentant pretenders, still calling the sun, the wind–the land itself–to task.
A crow flies over
a graveyard—blackness on stone–
change hangs in the air
When I saw Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge about scarecrows, I was intrigued. I can’t think of Scarecrow without thinking of Robert Okaji’s wise sage. So whatever I did would be colored by what Robert has written. I also decided to use the words from Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, synonyms for ghost and hollow, as many of them seemed to fit on Scarecrow too.
As to Crow–he’s always around here somewhere.
Once again, different light makes the metallic paint change like the weather and the seasons…and this is another artwork inspired by Joan Mitchell being inspired by Van Gogh. Circles within circles.
Also linked to dVerse Open Link Night.
Of course I forgot Draw a Bird Day. I am too distracted.
When I saw Kerfe’s post I sat down and copied her bird sketches. Her post was so good today! I believe birds are our ancestors from the spirit world.
When I see a Red Tailed Hawk flying solo I think it’s my sister. She often appears out the window during Zumba class. I think she’s glad I’m dancing!
I thought I saw blue jays, but red feathers and whistles turned them into cardinals. I thought I saw cardinals, but the starlings stole their song. I thought I saw starlings, but they grew huge and then they laughed in a raucous crow chorus.
Which bird? you ask, which
bird?—sparrows, tiny sparrows–
wings to wish upon
This is based on a fragment of a dream that came back to me with the birds in the morning. All five birds mentioned are often both heard and seen outside my windows and doors (and, apparently, also in my dreams).
The sky beneath the stars–
shadowed by the night,
divided by itself.
always pulled away,
divided by itself,
vast and gravitating.
Always pulled away–
completely boundless ancient
vast and gravitating
Completely boundless ancient
held by threads that sail–
tides of wing and air.
Held by threads that sail,
shadowed by the night,
tides of wing and air–
the sky beneath the stars.
This collage was done originally for a Sue Vincent Photo Prompt. I’ve posted the art again, with a new poem, in celebration of the publication of Marianne Szlyk’s book, “On the Other Side of the Window”, which uses it for the cover illustration.
I was delighted when Marianne asked if she could use one of my crow pieces for her book of poems. I know her from her wonderful blog of words, art, and music, “The song is…”, and was pleased also to be able to meet her at the New York Poetry Festival on Governor’s Island a few weeks ago.
Also linked to dVerse open link night , hosted by Lillian. And yes, yet another pantoum.