Dreaming With the Moon

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 21

Dreaming With the Moon

Full moon meanders its way
across recessed bedroom windows,
painting sky rich royal blue.
Enveloping backdrop for dreams
of other places, moments encountered.

Standing on a bridge watching deep
water rushing forward to embrace
large boulders, river laughing out loud
as it soothes and smooths
sharp granite edges.

Twilight and huge hawk, wings spread,
seeking strong branch of sturdy tree
in which to find rest until sunrise
awakens hunger to hunt
once again.

Breath caught in blue of knowing
that words spoken in dreams
might be truer than any
shouted in broad
daylight.

And so night passes, as moon continues
to dance, flipping her skirt
of deep royal blue dreams,
until sun arises
to greet her.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/21/2019

Process Notes: I developed a broken sleep pattern, after an accident at age four which resulted in years of repetitive nightmares. That was resolved with a lot of dream study and work. However the broken sleep pattern still exists. Last night, however, the full moon created a softer reality in which, although I awakened, I found comfort and easily slipped back into sleep. Image is a kaleidoscope for the Black Canvas Series, some of which may be found here: https://intuitivepaths.wordpress.com/2018/12/02/the-black-canvas-series-inverts/ Last, but not least, have a wonderful Easter.

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Before Re-entry

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 20

Before Re-entry

The world and all of its discordant
cacophony has slipped its way into
my safest of places.

Like a worm it squirms against skin
of thoughts, pokes its nose, perhaps seeking nurture
thinking only to feed on distracted feelings.

Shudder away from antenna-like fingers,
forever reaching, always seeking to curve itself
into rich moist soil of muddled mind.

Resist. Call on militant words to assist
in this daily battle to fight whatever fleeting,
distorted attractions it might offer.

Seeking out just one more moment of peace
to breathe in deeply, granting but a brief release
before necessary re-entry.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/20/2019

Process Notes: Am finding that this daily making of poems might be my only safe place in a world that no longer makes much sense, and lacks coherent meaning. Image is a pen and ink inverted doodle, done a few years ago.

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Cave of Knowing

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 19

Cave of Knowing

Perched on a rock at edge of
the cave of my knowing,
wondering if these words
tossed over edge will even be heard
by an understanding ear.

Suppose one could compose a legend
of a gray-haired woman
choosing to live alone in her finally
owned wilderness, letting loose her truths
into unknown Universe.

Instead, watch moon and stars
occasionally glisten, as they lean in
to listen to these prayers quietly penned
by gnarled but willingly bent
fingers.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/19/2019

Process Notes: Image is a pen and ink sketch used to decorate a long ago self-published chapbook titled “Singing Over the Bones”. When I saw it this morning, I immediately heard the words “cave of knowing”, so posted it. Saw a poster on Facebook about gray-haired women which had me searching for a song, heard only once, over thirty years ago, but never forgotten. Only remember the catch phrase to the song, “She’s a gray-haired woman, coming into her own.” Couldn’t find it but was humming it for hours. And finally a conversation with another poet about ‘fingers’. And yes, I do believe that poems are, more often than not, prayers, or most often accompanied by such.

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Finding The Pattern

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 18

 Finding the Pattern

Isn’t it strange, how in one moment
a pattern appears after years
of seeming unknowing?

Sudden definition puts its foot
forward, leaving a print
that can no longer be dismissed.

Hope rises with a certain dread.
Creating a soup that might offer
nothing of nurture.

Mind freezes solid while heart
races forward, seeking a space
that might not exist.

Elizabeth Crawford  4/18/2019

Process Notes? Started with the word pattern, which led to the doodle, pen and ink sketch using repeat pattern drawing. Once the image was posted, I followed the words. That seems to be the pattern I have been using for this year’s NaPoWriMo process. Although the poem itself speaks of a much deeper experience.

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Eye of the Storm

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 17

Eye of the Storm

They say when one stands
in the eye of a storm
there is perfect stillness.

Absence of all sound
that might raise small hairs
from shrinking flesh.

The Universe withholding its breath
for one, maybe two moments
before explosive release.

Much like one eye meeting unknown other
as knowledge races through blood stream,
of love finally found.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/17/2019

Process Notes: No more than a trail of bread crumbs starting with that photograph taken years ago, and a few words dancing in the darkness. Have to admit, I am probably more surprised than anyone.

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Echo

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 16

Echo

a repetition of sound produced by the reflection of sound waves from a wall, mountain, or other obstructing surface. (Dictionary definition)

Memories are no more than echoes
bouncing off wall of the past.
Sights and sounds reflecting that
which was lived, sometimes long ago.

Time passing only gives life to more.
Repetition might mean we need
to move on, leave a place where
we’ve been stuck for awhile.

Or, climb the mountain of its meaning
to learn what it seeks to teach us. Were
we too quick to get past another obstacle
and missed the nurture it offered?

Perhaps it’s time to paint that wall blue
with new knowing, cover that bland beige
we preferred at a younger age because it
permitted us to just keep moving.

Maybe, if we let its reflection rest for more
than a fleeting moment, at center of our
being, we could find healing that allows
for making new and very different choices.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/16/2019

Process Notes: The image is a bonfire photo put through the kaleidoscope app. I’ve always liked it because it is so different from the others I made. When I looked at it today, it made me think of the word Echo. Went to the Dictionary, looked up the word and the poem started dancing in my head.

 

 

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Half Way

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 15

Marananthaheth

Szooo, little one, you are half way through
your journey of making poemz?

Yes, have to laugh at how
frightened I was
to begin.

But, you have done thisz szo many timez.
I am, how you zsay? Szurprized by your fear.

Well, it has to do with
being away from
the actual writing
of poetry for so long.

But, little one, you have been uszing  your
time, making a book of poemz, No?

Yes, but the poems are already
written. Putting them in place,
deciding what to use, or leave out,
making sure they make sense
to the whole, rewriting when necessary,
takes a different type of skill,
a different eye, sort of speak.

You have more than two eyez? May I zee thisz
other eye of which you szpeak?

No. I have only the normal two.
What I meant by a different eye
is a figure of speech.

And iz thisz figure comely? Attractive? Does
he or szhe make you feel good?

Oh boy… A figure of speech is simply
a different way of saying a thing.  A different eye
speaks to the need for looking at something
differently, not in the usual way,
or using a different set of skills
than one normally would.

Okay, little one. What iz thiszs different zet of szkills
you uze for making thiz book?

Well, I guess you could say they are
more editorial in nature. The placement
of each piece, the progression and shaping
of the whole, with a hope that it will
be satisfying to the reader, and that he
or she will take something of worth
away from the reading.

But, little one, are thoze not the same thingsz you wizsh
to accomplizsh, when you write poemz? The placzement
of each word, the progreszion of thought, and the hope for
zatiszfaction and underztanding by the reader?

Yes, but…

I think you might have been afraid of zomehow loszing
your skill of making poemz. Szomething you have been doing
for many, many yearz, yessz?

Close to forty years, yes. And not so
much of losing the ability, but that
my skills might have grown rusty
from lack of use.

You are human, yeszz? And therefore no part of you
can become ruszt.

Another figure of speech, I’m afraid.
Fear that by not using those skills,
they are no longer quite as sharp, or
as viable as they were.

Have you found that to be true?

No. The first pieces seemed a bit stiff
but after two weeks I seem to be getting
back into the swing of it.

Another figure of szpeech? And how, might I aszk, doesz
one acquire this figure?

UHMMMMMMMMM, by writing
a lot of poetry?

Elizabeth Crawford 4/15/2019

Process Notes: Half-way through NaPo and thinking I needed some Heth, to help me breathe a bit. Humor relaxes whatever muscles have been stretched. And Heth never fails me on that level.

 

 

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