I thought the Oracle’s message was going to be gloomy but I kept on turning the pages and I’m fine with where it ends up.
Days slip
between cup and lip
never tasted
streaming
a river of unborn dreams
into thirsty sand
moon glints in the eye of a fish
swimming dark seas
deep as tree shadows
silent as carp
secrets with white sails
hide in the blinding light
others curl dormant
in stinking mud
mouths full of glittering teeth
but above
there is soft sky
through the broken cloud
the slow sad passage of the night
and the long sigh of going home
where breezes dance
through sun-fire in the grass
time drifts in feathered smoke
with all our ghosts
careless as the laughter of the stars
The last line is a perfect end,as its a lot of laughter about the dreams humans are trying to fullfill, during the forgot living. Enjoy your weekend on the nature site, Jane! Best wishes, Michael
Than you, Michael. It’s beautifully hot and still today ๐
Great news, from the South. ๐ Enjoy it, Jane! Sitting on the veranda, with a good glas of wine, to enjoy the wideness and the silence of the rurality. ๐
Thanks Michael, just did that ๐
Very good news.Here one can think the lockdown is going on. There are much less person on the streets as during the lockdown.Hillbillies! Lol
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Jane, I have included you in a static page of recommended blogs. I was wondering if it’s okay for you to be there, but I will promptly remove you in case you oppose the idea!
Also, I’ve heard of this oracle before; quite a few blogs I follow mention it, but I could never decode its origin. Could you perhaps tell me where it comes from, if its not much of a hassle? I’m sorry!
I’d be honoured to be there! Thank you for thinking of me.
Somebody, I forget who (might have been me) started using the online magnets to inspire poetry every Saturday. We each use different tactics to get a poem, and I started using only the words proposed, but the vocabulary is extremely limited, so now I pick out words that leap into a phrase and make the poetry around it.
We started calling the results messages from the Oracle because they have an uncanny knack of being relevant, and often several of us end up with similar poems.
Have a look at it. I enjoy playing with the proposed words. The Poet and Original are the sets I use most often, occasionally the Nature set.
http://play.magneticpoetry.com/poem/Original/kit/
Keep clicking on ‘more words’ at the bottom of each page until you find what you want. There aren’t many, six maybe.
For all it might not want to go there, the night has an impressive home. Maybe night is finding too much pleasure in simply sailing through (or as) the sky. I suppose a place where time is careless might not sound so good to the over-scheduled–and our ghosts are there–but I like the different place and the freedom it might provide. Maybe it’s an eccentric opinion; maybe I’m searching more than I know.
Careless in the sense of not having any cares is possibly my idea of heaven. I think it’s probably in the night somewhere. I’ll keep looking.
The Oracle did end up giving you a lovely message. It is like turning the pages of a day–all the snapshots, and ending with the stars.
I had a hard time getting a clear message today. I thought ours were not too similar–until I got to the end of yours.
I’ve just read yours and we use some of the same images. Yours is more ‘celebratory’ than mine, but I get there in the end ๐
Yes, you do, and we do have some of the same images. ๐
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Very much like Merrill’s.
Ghosts have been much on my mind. My dead are as restless as me. (K)
The older we get, the more ghosts we accumulate.
Sadly true. And it accelerates.
We gather the ghosts of so much and so many that have died. They are all ours.
That’s delightful Jane. Very evocative
Thanks Geoff ๐