Today’s poem was prompted by the King of Wands from Volume 2 (As Below) of the Book of Shadows tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Bearing witness
She rises before the council, her passion
a bright flame, casting heat and light
on all who hear her testimony.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today’s poetry prompt was the Page of Swords from the Mythic Tarot. (Click here to see the card.) This image makes me think of two of my favorite books from childhood: At the Back of the North Wind and The Neverending Story.
***
Warm is the wind
that blows through
the imagination
Welcome, global readers and poets!
As I mentioned at the beginning of the month, I’ll be leading a writing workshop in May – Saturday, May 14, to be exact. I’ve led past workshops at the library, but this time I’ll be at the Carnegie Center for Literacy and Learning, another wonderful resource for the community. If you’re local or just curious, here’s a link for more information:
http://carnegiecenterlex.org/adult-class/writing-with-tarot/.
Today’s poem was prompted by the Nine of Pentacles from the Crystal Visions Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Time and this garden
It is always twilight, maybe dawn. Spring flowers carpet
the ground, and apples hang on the branch, so ripe
they perfume the air. Nests burst with hatchlings, and adult
birds gather for migration. Nothing is settled but nothing
truly changes. Everything is in the process of becoming
something else.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today is the NaPoWriMo halfway point, and I feel pretty good about my participation this year. I’ve only missed posting one day: yesterday, because yesterday’s poem was a little too ambitious for the time I had to devote to it. I couldn’t give it enough shape to even make sense. I’ll keep working, though, and it may yet make an appearance this month.
As if to reward me for refusing to panic that I didn’t have a post yesterday, today’s poem popped up almost fully formed. The prompt was the Five of Cups from the Zombie Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Remnants
The dead do not always depart. They linger
in the notes of a song, the seasonal changes
of light, the blooming of a particular flower.
We feel them hovering, watching, and we wonder
what they want from us, why they cannot leave us
to bury the guilt with our grief.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
This poem was prompted by The Emperor from the Robin Wood Tarot. (Click here to see the card.) I had to wrestle with this more than expected, and it’s still not really what I want it to be. But the point of NaPoWriMo is to write, not edit or perfect, so here’s today’s writing, warts and all.
Odin Looks Back
What was I ere I lost my eye? A chieftain, a proud ruler
with worlds at my feet, power and authority in my hands
like iron. I was fair to look upon, strong and confident
on my throne, the father of many sons.
But strength and confidence are not enough
to keep the Nine Worlds, so I traded perfect vision
of flesh for the more perfect vision of time and called
Thought and Memory to be my eyes.
No longer comely, I am grown wily with knowledge
of the living and the dead, though it will not save me. Still
I wander the worlds in search of anything that might see
my people through the great battle yet to come.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today’s poem was prompted by the Grail King from the Arthurian Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Bargain
beside a stream, beneath a tree a marble slab lies on the ground
and I place my heart on it – the stone feels cool, almost damp
a man with a brass bowl lifts the heart in his hand, weighs it
he considers before making me an offer in exchange – I am speechless
I had not thought it worth so much – something tender
in his eyes, the tilt of his head tells me he knows this
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today’s poem was prompted by The Moon from the Shadowscapes Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Diana, Huntress
Pitiless as she is beautiful, the lady holds my heart
in her hand – ransom or ante? – I cannot tell. I only know
I will not resist her, no less thrall than the flimsy creatures
she conjures out of mist and mushroom. She hides her face
in darkness, turns toward me mask within mask, ever false
to all the world, ever true to her mysterious self.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today’s poem was prompted by The Green Woman from the Wildwood Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
A Window in the Greenwood
Deep in the forest lies a pool, a near perfect
circle of stone and water. Trees do not crowd
the bank, and their canopy forms an oculus
to frame the sky. Clouds refill it with tears
so pure that the heavens may watch the earth’s heart
beat through the glassy depths. According to legend,
those who look into the water see reflected
the image of their true animal selves.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today’s prompt was the Two of Earth from Volume 1 (As Above) of the Book of Shadows Tarot. (Click here to see the card.) One of the gifts of this month of writing is that I seem to be experimenting with forms I don’t usually employ. I’m not much of a prose poetry fan, but this poem just refused to make sense any other way.
Tide pool
My feet hurt. This journey took much longer than I was told, took much more out of me than I expected. I had not felt my years before, not much, but now I feel older than the rocks, older than the mountains where I was born. But not older than the ocean on whose glowing edge I now sit, whose waters soothe my aching feet and reflect the marbled morning sky. It is a marvel, a vastness that moves and sighs like an animal, a form of life so different from the mountains. I know stone in all its expressions, its origins and transformations. I know the secrets it holds, how to uncover them and use them. But this, this! This expanse that has no shape but shapes and is shaped by what it touches, that changes moment to moment and somehow seems unchanged, unchangeable – this ocean frightens me. How can one understand such strangeness? And faced with such mystery, how can one not yearn to spend a lifetime discovering it?
Welcome, global readers and poets!
This poem was prompted by the Two of Cups from The Housewives Tarot, a delightfully zany deck that has become one of my favorites. (Click here to see the card.) This image just begged for something light and fizzy.
The most important meal of the day
I love orange juice in the morning
especially with champagne
and you. Or should that be
I love you in the morning
especially with orange juice
and champagne?
Amazing how simpatico we become
with a mimosa or two under our belts.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
The Daily Compost 
