“…till the morning break
And the white hush end all but the loud beat
Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.”
–W.B. Yeats, from ‘To some I have talked with by the fire’
Once again I dipped into Jane Dougherty’s Month of Yeats for some inspiration. The Oracle seems to have caught a mood circling around the earth which is definitely Yeatsian.
Above is the view out back last night, which also somehow feels right for the Oracle’s (and Yeat’s) words…
bird wings like
cloudlight caught between
frost and wind
covering winter with paths
which grow cold shining
‘I would that the Boar without bristles had come from the West
And had rooted the sun and moon and stars out of the sky’
—W.B. Yeats, from ‘He Mourns for the Change That Has Come Upon Him And His Beloved, And Longs For The End Of The World’
And what says
Jupiter? Skies fly
untamed and all-consuming–
the eagle on fire.
from the void
of planets and stars? What then
answers Mother Earth?
The arrogance of
violence. Sacred oaks seized,
broken, scattered. Dark.
And so November comes to an end. Many thanks to Eliot at along the interstice for sponsoring Shadorma November, and to Jane Dougherty for A Month With Yeats, inspiring many a deep thought and plenty of wonderful verse. December will bring new challenges I’m sure…
‘We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore,
The grey cairn on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew,
Being weary of the world’s empires, bow down to you,
Master of the still stars and of the flaming door.’
—W.B. Yeats ‘The Valley of the Black Pig’
Once again I’ve consulted the Magnetic Oracle about one of Jane Dougherty’s Yeats quotes–this one from Day Nineteen. The Oracle zoned right in on the stars and the flaming door. Of course that’s always compatible with my artistic pursuits as well…
In the shadorma form for Shadorma November.
Stars breathe frost
ancient as soul stones–
deep cold fire,
roots that wander wild, leaving
paths seeded with light
‘We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;’
–W.B. Yeats from ‘Easter, 1916’
layered grey on grey–
This mourning has no ending–
uniforms of dust.
“Away, come away:
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.”
follow the soundings–
beyond paths already crossed–
follow the soundings–
beyond paths already crossed–
I’m also linking this to dVerse, poems about animal/human connections–don’t we all want to fly?
‘The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,’ —W.B. Yeats
I went to see the Edvard Munch show at the Met Breuer and I was really pleased to see “Moonlight”, which Jane Dougherty used for a prompt in 2016 (Jane’s prompts stay with me), and which I had done a collage and a poem for. I could not get a good photo of the full painting because of all the people looking at it, but it has lots of dimension and subtle color changes that you can’t see in the online reproduction below.
When I went back to look at my original collage, I had used a section of the painting only as inspiration…I remembered the large face. And once again, the poem is not that different from the one the Magnetic Oracle gifted me with…there seems to be a pattern here.
winding beneath the
tangles of neural pathways
I follow myself,
moonlit shadows reflecting
mirages deep, heavy, dark
I was also thinking about a question Crow at Words and Feathers asked in a recent poem: what sound does a shadow make? Since I’m always talking about shadows, I’m sure I’ll revisit the idea again.
of blood the whisper
of reflected light—dreams sail
bare beneath dark moons
I reworked the original collage a few times, and I’m sure I’ll do the same for the one I did today…it needs to sit for awhile first, but I’m definitely not satisfied with it. At least the Oracle is being cooperative with Shadorma November.
“Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?”
Crown falls with
angels and stars, laughs,
calling to earth’s children—Come!
Touch the sacred skies!
When I saw the quote from Day Sixteen of Jane Dougherty’s Month with Yeats, I was immediately reminded of a collage I had done for one of her poetry challenges from 2016. I know the collage well because it is one of my favorites from all the work I’ve done. I decided to do a poem and some artwork and then look back at the challenge and the poem I had written in response originally.
Interestingly, the original challenge from Jane consisted of the shadorma form, and that’s what I wrote today, as I’m participating in On the Interstice’s Shadorma November. And it’s eerily similar to the poem I wrote today as well, and also works equally well with the Yeats quote.
What grows here?
the mystery of
cells dividing reaching toward
the sky’s endless crown
I’m not going to speculate on the implications of it all…
Also linking to dVerse open link night.
“With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones”
Gone silent. Unseen.
Dark, cold, hard.
Unchanting verses of stone
through fossilized eyes.
I’ve gone back to Day Three of Jane Dougherty’s Month with Yeats. The references for the drawings were photos of medieval sculptured faces.
And a shadorma for Shadorma November.
Here are stars:
mirrors, images captured
perfect and untouched
with golden voices:
unbeholden to any
partnering of song
held in light journeying far
from harbors unknown
Credit: ESA/Hubble; NASA, ESA and the Hubble Heritage (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration
It’s draw-a-bird day once again, and since I haven’t drawn any birds recently, the birdlings are filling in. Also I would say I’m killing several prompts with one stone, but no killing on this blog–birds, prompts, or otherwise.
‘…stars, grown old
In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,
Sing in their high and lonely melody.’
and I’ve managed 3 more shadorma verses for the along the interstice November shadorma challenge too.
Happy Draw-a-Bird day! But every day is a good day for thinking about birds, the cosmos, or poetry.