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Noises

venus 3 days s

Were I Other. Were I spoken in a different voice.  Were I fallen into impossibility.

I would be like stars.
I would echo the feeling
that follows the wind.

Were I made of light. Were I pulsing like oceans.  Were I to open as wide as never and nothing.

I would radiate
rainbows. I would paint moments
with sound. Fill absence.

venus 3 days close up 2s

For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, with synonyms for love and time.  I’m not entirely sure this qualifies as a haibun.  In the spirit of, anyway.

The embroidered watercolor is a work in progress.  I plan to keep embroidering it until I stop.

besieged

distant shores mandala s

gathering like fire,
 these memories leave me swept
on abandoned shores–

I disintegrate in words
 trying to unspell the past

ds close up 2s

For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, with synonyms for congregate and passion.

ds dots s

Memory is indeed a tricky thing.

 

 

Interrupted by Form

bone circle s

How do we
return the gift of
death?  How do
we unfold
the wrapping, respond to bone
disrobed and fragile?

How do we
sweep the sky, catch soul
patterns made
of flying
light?  How do we count the years
back into remains?

Inspired by Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above.

bone circle close up s

 

Supernova (matter becomes energy)

supernova comp

branches of silver,
stars walking on air, arms of
galaxies outstretched—

knots of melancholy
dissolving into deep skies

sn close up3s

I’ve been worrying this painting for quite awhile.  It has metallic paint in it, and looks different depending on the light and also how you look at it.  The composite at the top is the image under two different lights–the colors change quite a bit.

sn close up 2s

I used Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday words for my poem.  The first person is only inferred, so it’s not exactly following the rules for a tanka.  But I’m in there.

sn close up 1s

 

No Crows

no crows s

What message
this black performance?
retrograde
running through
the clash of silence unbound,
stark with intention.

Misplaced, those
promises—passwords
forgotten,
erased and
unfigured—transparent streaks
against darking skies.

no crows close up s

Jane Dougherty’s raven poem reminded me to visit the Secret Keeper’s words this week, and also reminded me of the various crows demanding my attention as I go about my life.  Sounds of silence (for dVerse).

Art inspired by Joan, Joni, and Vincent.

 

Marker

marker close up s

If I rise,
cleave into landscape,
will I merge
with background,
become boundless?  Be part of
instead of apart?

A shadorma for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  I haven’t been working in collage for awhile, so it felt good to get out scissors and paste again.

marker s

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

 

Eclipsed

eclipsed mandala s

This curious life–
a burst and then a fading–
star paths to the moon.

Faith stitched taut into nothing—
thoughts held together by wind.

eclipsed close up s

A tanka for Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday with synonyms for strange and beliefs.

It’s a full moon, eclipsed.

 

Ciphering

mapping the wind s

I’m mapping the wind–
an idea to carry,
gravity released.

No more searching for lost words—
at the vertex, spiraling.

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and Colleen’s poetry challenge with synonyms for inspiration and plan.

mapping the wind close up s

I’m still circling around.

 

Invocation of the Trees

wishes s

Have mercy on us
we who are poor in spirit
we who are never satisfied
we who strive to possess everything

We who are poor in spirit
bless us and teach us
we who strive to possess everything
fill us as vessels with the breath of stars

Bless us and teach us
cleanse and heal our weary hearts
fill us as vessels with the breath of stars
attach our roots with grace and truth

Cleanse and heal our weary hearts
quench our hunger with light
attach our roots with grace and truth
you who honor both heavens and earth

Quench our hunger with light
we who are never satisfied
you who honor both heavens and earth
have mercy on us

Another pantoum, for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  It seems a good form for call and response.

wishes close up s

The trees have been talking quite a bit lately, with a background of running commentary from the birds.