The January sky is deep and calm.
The mountain sprawls in comfort, and the sea
sleeps in the crook of that enormous arm.
And nature, from a simple recipe —
rocks, water, mist, a sunlit winter's day —
has brewed a cup whose strength has dizzied me.
— John Wain
I will go down to the lovely Sur rivers
and dip my arms in them up to the shoulders.
I will find my accounting where the alder leaf quivers
in the ocean wind over the river boulders.
— Robinson Jeffers
God's terrible face, brighter than a spoon,
reflects the image of one final word,
so that my life, which liked the sun and moon,
resembles something that has not occurred.
I am a birdcage without any bird,
a collar looking for a dog, a kiss
without lips, a prayer lacking any knees,
yet something beats within my shirt to prove
he is undead, who living no-one is...
I'm going to be busy in April, too - not so much during the second half, though.
It is a consideration to merge the two threads (Creative Choice and this one). I wouldn't be adverse to it. My creative choice would be 'verse - a pictorial interpretation' - ha! With emphasis on 'matters of the heart'.
Either way I want to continue with the photo/word project - that's more fun than I've had in a while.
I've had a good time with the photo/word project and will do my best to keep participating. I might have to miss a few days (it's that dreaded tax time) but I'll post as many as I can do this month. I'm all for keeping it small and intimate :)
Your body is stars, whose million glitter here.
I am lost against the branches of this sky
here, near my breast, here, in my nostrils, here
where our vast arms like streams of fire lie.
— Stephen Spender
Whenas in silks my Julia goes
Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows
That liquefaction of her clothes.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free;
Oh how that glittering taketh me!
— R. Herrick
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful, too,
For sunlight on the garden.
Oh Bear, too much rich inspiration, a month is too short to let it sink in and and sprout the images. Liquefaction of her clothes should get quite a crop though.
Bear - so happy to see your words here. Please pop in now and then (or daily if you wish). We are just continuing what we started in March. Although we had tons of song lyrics, I like it all. BRING IT ON PEOPLE.
Thought I'd get us started:
Great story with this. My son rescued this kitty when a young kitten, under my brother in law's house. They named her Gracey. Well, several weeks ago, the brother in law calls and guess what??? Gracey is a boy - ROFL
