Tag Archives: outdoors

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Sing from the sea

This is another poem where I did not know where it was going when I started it. I was thinking about the sea and sirens and singing. My poems go where my heart thinks I should go, but I don’t know where that is until the poem is done. And it’s clearly a song and next I need a tune. And chords. And more practice.

I sing from the sea, from the sea, from the beautiful sea
tied to the mast, you won’t come to me

unplug your ears, unblock your heart
before it breaks and truly stops
listen to my lonely heart
we’ll make music and never part

I sing from the sea, from the sea, from the beautiful sea
hear my voice, listen to me

our hearts melt together like stone
in the depths of my volcano home
you shut your heart down, run away
lava strings like glass, all the way

I sing from the deep, from the deep, from the beautiful deep
small child calling, she still weeps

volcano boiling from ocean floor
new island built as lava roars
small child with faith as adult caves to fear
small child holds your heart dear

I sing from the land, from the land, from the new born land
don’t be afraid, take my hand

hope has feathers, a poet said
in the darkest time, hope is not dead
I morph to dragon, to kite, to bird
your resistance is so absurd

I sing from the air, from the air, from the smoke filled air
vision dark, can’t see where

circle in flight, hope you too
listen to the small child hidden deep in you
a promise is a promise, you know it’s true
I do not give up on you

I sing in the wood, in the wood, in the beautiful wood
five elements sing as all things should

In the wood in the trees
on an island in the sea
in the heart of the volcano
my heart is free

I sing from the sea, from the sea, from the beautiful see
no matter what happens, my heart is free

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I took the photograph at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, a painting by Shinique Smith.

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abstract

This is a cell phone snap from a few days. It reminds me of Jackson Pollock’s paintings, all the complex colors and layers.

The tide was way way way out and it’s a snap of the green layer on the beach. Gorgeous. The beaches here are an endless wonder.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: wonder.

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flying dream

I dream I am Superman flying, but I am still me and female too. It is night and I fly over a beautiful bay, with a bridge at the opening of the bay. Cars are crossing. The people on the bridge call me down, calling β€œHelp!” I fly down. β€œThere are people in the water below the bridge! What are they going to do! Stop them!” I fly down to the water. β€œCome in,” say the people in the water. β€œThe water is warm!”

I join them in the water. It is warm and the bridge is beautiful. I say, β€œThe people on the bridge are scared of you.” The people in the water say, β€œWe just like the water. They are silly. They should join us. We won’t hurt them.” I thank them and fly back up.

I say, β€œThe people in the water just like the water. They say they won’t hurt you.” The people on the bridge say, β€œNo, no! They will hurt us. We don’t want them in the water! They might blow up the bridge!” I shrug. β€œWell, the water is fine. I am going back there.” I fly down and join the people in the water.

I wake up.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: cape.

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flight

Cormorant, I think.

About to take flight.

A good take off point.

It takes five years for bald eagles to fully mature. This one is close.

And a great blue heron in flight in the fog.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: flight.

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nap buddies

I go out to take a nap in the yard one afternoon. I realize that I am not alone. A mother deer and two fawns are already napping under the magnolia. I reassure them that I am not a threat and lie down. I go right to sleep. They are still lying down when I fall asleep and are gone when I wake up.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: juvenile.