Tag Archive | moon

moonflower

moonflower s

moonflower magnetic lai nouveau s

In honor of this month’s May flower full moon, the Oracle gave me a lai nouveau.  I know dVerse has moved on to the ghazal already, but I’m not ready yet for June which is still a full week away.

moonflower close up s

the moon a flower
cloud air and water
gentle
wild gardens wander
secrets uncover
cycle
we follow after
blossoming color

shine over summer
spring fall and winter
fertile
beneath blue murmur
listen as nature’s
soul fills
cloud air and water
the moon a flower

 

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

 

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.

 

forms die and are reborn

forms die sforms die magnetic s

I’m a bit late to the Oracle today.  She must be out there riding the wind…

forms die close up s

ships of light
above heaving seas–
moon winds bare
openings
that release time’s shadow storms
through a thousand doors

 

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–

 

Shapeshifting Moonlight

moonlight portal s

My haiku “Shapeshifting Moonlight” is posted today as part of Pure Haiku’s Portal Series.  You can read it here, along with all the other wonderful portals in verse.  Thanks as always to Freya Pickard for including my words on Pure Haiku.

moonlight portal close up s

 Joyce Fienberg, 75
Richard Gottfried, 65
Rose Mallinger, 97
Jerry Rabinowitz, 66
Brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54
Bernice and Sylvan Simon, 84 and 86
Daniel Stein, 71
Melvin Wax, 88
Irving Younger, 69

 

Remembering those who lost their lives in the Tree of Life Synagogue on Saturday. May they rest always in a portal of light.