seasons
oceanic bells
remnants of autumn bending
landscapes into dreams
beneath winter’s frost
ancient stonesongs murmur
through rootpaths
following earthlight
from seed to spring
haiku and gogyohka from the Oracle
April 2, 2018
I dissolve
blue into greyness,
hints of greens
dusted white,
playing with seasonings—taste
the bitter between.
You garnish
me with cold crumbs—you toss, stir,
fold me in
confusion.
You flour me with absent songs,
lost ingredients.
Where is spring?
The earth marinates–
veiled bouquets
lie in wait
to complete the recipe–
feed these hungry souls.
My monthly grid(s) for April 2018; the poem was composed today for the NaPoWriMo prompt of changing voices. The weather in/con/spired.
The Subject is Muses
Play. With words. Images. From images. (and words). Juxtaposition. Borrowing. The sound of silence. The dancing of music and time. Nonsense. (and sensibility). Geometry. Story, myth, oracle, dream. Serendipity. What is the question? (no answers, please). Thank you.
Birds.
Sometimes in winter–
summer might as well be spring–
autumn in New York.
dVerse wants to know the “why” of our poetic style. In a haibun.
Yes, the birdlings are back.
Seasons Tapestry
Nina’s “Going Through Changes” post from last week reminded me of this tapestry weaving I did in my early 20’s. I was experimenting with shaping on my small frame loom, and did the 4 seasons in 4 pieces which I then sewed together to make a mandala. I’ve kept it in all my work spaces over the years, and I turn it with the seasons. The warp yarn that extends from the piece is disintegrating though, so I may end up having to put it in a frame if I want it to survive. I didn’t keep up with the tapestry, but, like embroidery, its slow accumulation of color and texture is and was very appealing to me.
Not quite as old as Nina’s piece, but of the same era. Optimistic, we were optimistic in those days.
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