Blue Nowhere, Again

 

The last time I was here, I offered the reader a Mandala instead of a poem, and hints about the source of its creation. Also wrote how a Mandala is another kind, or type of poetry, an idea that brought me deep pleasure. At the end of the post, I said that there was little chance of coming up with a poem that would contain all of that.

Today, I came here, intending to offer a poem written two years ago, at about this same time period. Instead, read the last post and began to hear the words of the poem I had stated couldn’t be written. I love synchronicity, especially the kind that moves within the creative process. Was also reminded of that old piece of advice that things happen when they are supposed to happen:  You don’t need the ticket until you get on the train.

This is the Mandala and the poem. Again, the design was created by Marc Bove and his site can be found by clicking on any of the images within my Mandala Gallery.

Blue Nowhere

Blue Nowhere

Deep into blue
of knowing, I
am no longer home
to anyone
who might crassly
interrupt.

Colors create
own web of meaning,
wheels within wheels
making truer definitions
of moments both
past and present.

Like soft flannel shirt
flung across shoulders,
pattern of light
sheds warmth
of understanding,
tickles pleasured places
of mind, where widsom
waits its time
to be found
in ever deepening
shadows.

Elizabeth Crawford  6/8/09