The ship bearing flowers

The Oracle gave me a wayra sequence today, five stanzas as usual.

The ship bearing flowers

Take my breath away,
dance the day armed with flowers,
laugh with the lingering light,
lie on the ocean’s bed
beneath the sky, its rippling tide.

Darkness is only
the breeze among winter boughs,
the hole in the heart, ice-fringed,
its secrets, spring-revealed.
I watch for that returning sail.

Showers, baby-blue,
explode, cork-popping with joy,
the sad pavement grey forgot
in the upsurge of light.
See the truth; this is what you are.

In the evening hush,
by the fire, dog lies dreaming
of a long life still to run,
but the watching stars say,
Wake, now and run with the wild ones.

We are almost there,
you and I, the same colours
fading like pale evening clouds,
though, the glass, not empty,
reflects so much more still to come.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

38 thoughts on “The ship bearing flowers”

      1. I gave him that mattress so he wouldn’t have to step over the edge of his basket. But it wasn’t wide enough and there was always part of him (legs or head) dangling on the floor. Horses have the right idea. They sleep standing up 🙂

      2. 🙂 True!! We once came back from a walk in the New Forest to find one asleep on our car bonnet, well, resting his head anyway. he thought my green fleece was grass when he woke up, bless him.

      3. Digitals weren’t so apparent in those days so it was 126 or 110 cartridges (yes, I’m that old). We have cameras on our mobiles, but the quality is bad. However, we have the little Nikon digital that slips into the pocket OK even if it does eat batteries, and of course the Canon now when we know we’re going somewhere different and want some decent shots.

      4. I bought a Canon just before I left England and it lasted until 2010 and we got a digital. Neither of us had a telephone then. I never took the camera out with me, and now I have a phone, I rarely have it with me either.

      5. That’s a thought! If I could be bothered prising the thing apart I’d try. My old phone had a lovely little camera but I lent it to one of the kids when one of them passed me his old phone, and it’s disappeared into the great dustbin in the sky.

  1. This is stunning, Jane, and poignant, too. The message of hope and beauty, even as some go to “run with the wild ones.”
    I would like to “dance the day armed with flowers.”

    When I was checking my e-mail, I saw your title, and I knew what image you used. 😀 I had to try to ignore it when I consulted the Oracle, but she still gave me a similar message, and I used a different Redon.

    1. Thank you!
      It was the old set again, and it came out in wayra form. It’s got into my brain, I suppose.
      I’ll be over to read yours. Redon pops up everywhere, doen’t he?

    1. I’m pleased you like it. It’s good to know some people do.
      I thought you’d stopped blogging because I don’t get notifications but I’ve just looked and you’re still there. WP had a purge on my account and I only get notifications from four people these days and one of them I don’t know!

      1. Still, there’s temperamental and there’s Stalinist. I don’t know what it’s got against me but I’m in the Gulag.
        I enjoy your posts. I need a few laughs at the moment and your posts do it for me.

  2. I’ve just been looking at exactly that Redon. The Oracle knows.
    What beautiful distilled images she gave you. And yes, we are swimming the same seas. (K)

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