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Out of the Clouds (Things in my Tarot Card)

ace of cups s

My Ace of Cups overflows,
drifting like flowers
on the sea.

I drink from it
knowing that nothing
is certain.

Will liquid become air?
Will my hands become feathers
that become wings?

To the moon, perhaps–
in parallel, we translate ourselves
as everything changes.

ace of cups center s

For the NaPoWriMo prompt, a sort-of-a-list of things, in the form of a quadrille about an Ace for dVerse.

napo2019button2

 

Equinox

march moon 3s

spring moon magnetic s

Nina gave me a magnetic board for consulting the Oracle.  This was her first message…of course she had to mention this week’s full moon!

march moon 4s

In between all the rain and wind, it was a clear, if misty, night.  I like the way the moon mirrored the streetlight rising over the buildings too.

march moon 1s

breathe spirit from within
be nothing but a moon song
speaking with the wind

march moon2s

 

harbinger

harbinger blk s

the blue of
darkness is
a blank canvas

from translucent music
comes
the shadow
of hope

moonbird rising
toward
the center of deep
light

It took me a long time to see the hat in Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above–to my eyes the form on the sign was a magical creature, perched on the threshold.  So I just went with it.

harbinger close up s

The collage box Oracle knows what the world needs now…

beyond lines and measures

beyond lines and measures s

The moon pauses, listening–
a painted backdrop bathed in blue,
a song returning to its beginnings–
Is it a permanent fixture or a trick of light?

A painted backdrop bathed in blue,
a tunnel lined with apparitions–
is it a permanent fixture or a trick of light?
The world approaches blackness,

a tunnel lined with apparitions,
lost in the far realms of the spectrum.
The world approaches blackness,
a stillness that eliminates the horizon.

Lost in the far realms of the spectrum,
unseen crows echo across the gap
with a stillness that eliminates the horizon–
is this the voice that calls the dying?

Unseen crows echo across the gap—
(there should be weeping)–
is this the voice that calls the dying?
There is not enough air here to hold my tears.

There should be weeping,
there should be an explosion of colors pulling at the soul–
but there is not enough air here to hold tears,
to keep the promise of breath.

There should be an explosion of colors pulling at the soul–
infinite branches of trees crowned with rainbows of wings.
How to keep the promise of breath,
to find the path of stars that carries the spirit home?

Branches, trees, rainbows, wings:
will you return life to its beginning?
Find me the path of stars that carries the spirit home–
the moon pauses, listening.

Another (non-rhyming) pantoum, for the Myths of the Mirror prompt for March, above.  dVerse is featuring pantoums this month, and Victoria has just written a post with suggestions to help in the writing of this form.

beyond lines and measures close up s

I would also like to dedicate these words to The Secret Keeper, whose passing was noted by her friend Shawn this week.  The many poems she inspired with her prompts live on.

 

Night Visions (Moon Totem #2)

moon totem 2s

the matrix of my dream emerges
from dark mirrors, casting outlines
of stories on particles
of air—constellated
points of glittered light
following the
movements of
inner
moons

A nonet for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday with synonyms for origin and write.

I did a bunch of these moon totems in 2017 and meant to do more, but the project got sidetracked by life.  I found this one in a drawer…I know the others are around somewhere.  Perhaps they are hiding with the birdlings, also missing since I moved.

 

The Looming Unknown

the looming unknown s

My dreams fall
over the edge of
the fullness
of moons vast
with perplexity and play–
rapt with lunacy

the looming unknown close up s

A shadorma for Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday words, trouble and game.

Also linking to dVerse open link night, hosted by Lillian.

 

Moon Sonnet

blood moon s

Its light spills out from everywhere—the moon–
a lantern in the sky, a mirrored sea
projecting the between of tide’s return,
throwing its questions at infinity.

The landscape shimmers, particles on fire–
breathes in, impatient, waiting with the stars
for orbits to conjoin as shadowed blood
that spills out, falling into otherwise.

Bewitched by moon beams, pushing into pull,
the spirits of the night become themselves–
a coiled diffusion standing in two worlds,
a melody that casts the wind with spells.

Transparent on the air, invisible–
the ancient shores of galaxies still call.

DVerse is featuring the sonnet form this month.  I always have difficulty with sonnets , which is why it’s taken me so long to compose even one.

blood moon close up s

The clouds cooperated and gave me a chance to see the magical moon last night.  It’s beautiful this evening, too, and equally enchanting.

moon eclipse comp

 

Enchanted Garden

enchanted garden comp

enchanted garden magnetic

Nina and I consulted the Oracle together this week.  We did our art independently, but the Oracle is always watching.

enchanted garden s

Now out to look at the blood moon!

Diamond rain crushing
the sky with shadow wind,
bitter like an ache–

Blood singing of moon storms–
languid music so still…

I want an enchanted garden
of madness and mist
to whisper through beauty–

 

Economics (Draw a Bird Day)

owl moon s

Biodiversity is unprofitable. Industry is profitable.

Old growth forests are unprofitable. Deforestation is profitable.  Prairies are unprofitable.  Pipelines are profitable.  Clean water and air are unprofitable.  Manufacturing, drilling, and mining are profitable.  Public lands are unprofitable.  Private property is profitable.

Healthcare is unprofitable. Illness is profitable. Truth is unprofitable. Lies are profitable.

Extinction is profitable.

dark understories,
multilayered, listening–
a silent swift swoop

owl close up 2

The spotted owl is one of the species that will likely lose habitat if the Endangered Species Act is gutted, as those pushing development over preservation, supported by many members of Congress, and the President and his cabinet members, wish to do.  We have to find a way to live that doesn’t have greed and profit as its prime motives.  We are not just destroying the individual ecosystems that are homes for endangered species; we are killing the delicate balance that keeps everything on Earth alive.

Celebrate Draw-A-Bird Day by asking your leaders to do something to save our planet, so we can have more birds, not less, and a better and richer life for all.

The Moon is Dreaming

the moon is dreaming s

the language of sleep magnetic

I haven’t visited the magnetic Oracle for awhile.  She didn’t talk about the moon specifically, but I think it’s inferred.

the language of sleep
whispers beneath a garden
of a thousand dreams

like flowers born dancing with
children and starry-eyed fools