Out of the blackness of dreams
There are wild murmurous thoughts
Whirling out of the deepest recesses
Shattering the stillness and silence of sleep
Here the orb of the moon may be brilliant gold
Or instead it may be blue as still waters
Here creatures may speak with the tongues of man
Or man may bleat and bark and chirp
As nonsensical as the creatures they mimic
Here doors may not open inward, or outward
But instead may fold into themselves
Or shatter into bits at the rap of knuckles
In the quiet blackness of dreams
All sense becomes nonsense
In the black quietness of dreams
All chaos becomes reality
In the black dream of quietness
We become our heart’s longing
In the quiet dream of blackness
We are still
Written in response to today’s challenge at With Real Toads, where we are given a list of words that seem disparate and asked to use at least five. I used eight.
Last night the moon rose, full and bright in the Eastern sky
I turned to gaze upon her, to offer my thanks for her blessings
for without her grace, without her light and influence, I would be lost.
Today’s challenge at d’Verse Poets ask us to consider the Korean form ‘sijo’ as we write. Sijo is similar in some ways to a haiku, but uses more syllables, which allows us to explore ideas more fully.
Another visit from Death
came just after sunset.
A crescent moon hung low in the sky.
His approach brought with it
a brisk wind to stir up
the autumn debris.
He paused as he approached,
I ignored his coming
and instead turned my face to the sky,
to the waxing moon
just beginning to illuminate the night.
He cleared his throat.
You can’t avoid me forever,
he said, his voice trying to be sinister
but only managing to be scratchy
like the leaves on the ground.
I know, I replied, and turned to face him.
But you can’t have me yet.
Death stared at me
hands shaking from his own chill.
You’re beautiful, he said.
I stared at him
taken aback by that flattery.
He pulled his hoodie tighter around his face
not letting me see him
except for his eyes.
A breath or two later
he turned away, leaving me behind.
Once more I looked to the moon,
closed my eyes,
and truly felt alive.
Part three of this series, once more inspired by the prompt at Trifecta. This week’s word: sinister.
Beneath this full moon I stand with eyes closed
letting moonlight infuse me, seeking balance and center.
Goddess of night, mother, crone, I pray
for your blessing.
Bestow upon me your quiet peace
your loving embrace.
Guide me along the path I walk alone
let me feel your presence
and your strength.
Over at Wonder Wednesday, we were encouraged to write using round sounds. I didn’t manage that, but I did write with the full moon in mind. It was beautiful here lastnight, so it inspired me.
there is no more room to crawl
I have reached the edge
stains on my fingers
betray my path through red mud
my nails ragged
paint flaking across the stones
pain quaking and quivering through my bones
atop the bluffs
surveying the shadows beyond
where vessels soar
where dragons roar
where I crave more
my gaze lifts above the horizon
hoping, praying, wishing and dreaming
to spy the lunar face
her corona brilliant, golden
my corneas hazy, misty
this earth breathes, trembles
willow branches brush my skin
This week’s Wordle at The Sunday Whirl gave us the words “crawl, stain, bluffs, shadows, corona, nail, vessels, brush, trembled, willow, mud, stones” and this is my result. Also linked up to With Real Toads’ open link Monday. Go on over and check out the other wonderful poets’ writing!