L'aura del Campo

Melody of Wings

L'aura del campo

LATE AUTUMN: 5 Masa'il (16 December) 66º and moist.

'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣

Lots of drama this week. Susie was found dead down by the river on Wednesday. Dreama died Friday. Owen, Dusty and Silver got into it at Mark's camp. Dusty is in jail; Owen had his jaw wired and Silver has a broken nose.

Me? I'm fine. Yesterday morning I was crawling from the couch to the toilet every ten minutes and the day before I cracked one tooth on cashew brittle and another had a piece break off while I was eating raisin bran.

I've been reading: finished 'Snug Harbor' by Richard Katrovas, 'Rivers of Salt' by Shirley Kaufman and One Hundred Poems (Famous collection of Japanese tanka from 600 - 1200), not to mention working on Basho's haibun. I've read part of James Koller's work, 'Snows gone by'.

I've been writing alot of short sketches too.

Melody of wings

Here Zdeña sings to the stars,
faint orbs glittering above the lake.
She sings of longing for her missing mate;
she'll sing long past his passing.

Here the qedrith flouresces red
to draw his meal to where he waits.
As long as Zdeña sings, he'll think he's safe.
This game of eat to stay alive,
to hide or be eaten in return
has ruled this galaxy that churns
beyond the constellations of your sky.

I pray that I could fly to you
on the melody of Zdeña's wings
while the qedith glows cerise
but with no tongue I cannot sing
a map to bring you to this peace. [163.488]

These two 'tanka-like' poems rely upon Japanese motifs.
'Viewing night', moon, pine, white blossoms (= snow), wet sleeves (= tears), all have cultural meanings. They are both winter poems (pine = the winter season).

Crisp viewing night.
In moon shadowed pine
I hide and wait.

And what to view but you,
entranced by moonlight. [163.498a]

Between us,
white blossoms cover the leaves
that have blown into mountains.

Wet sleeves stiffened to ice,
dry slower under the pine. [163.498b]

Running out of time at the public library. The season of less computer access is upon us; the university is mostly closed. But ... there is hope that by Monday ...

When Susan Shackelford died (1965-2006) they posted this:

http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2006/dec/14/lawrence_womans_body_found_near_levee/

Her obit that appeared today:

http://www2.ljworld.com/obits/2006/dec/16/susan_shackelford/

The poem I wrote for Dreama Biggers two years ago:

"Dream a bigger dream" 

What I wrote her on the 14th:

Waking up

         for Dreama Biggers

And the dream got bigger
til its glow encompassed all
that ever was.

Past the limitations placed upon her flesh,
the time had come to search the outer-realm,
to find her home.

And her Spirit stretched this shell that we call life,
until the flesh could not contain it.
It then burst forth with radiance,

now ready to wake up. She wept.
For all that had transpired for fifty years
was but a dream well dreamt. [163.481]

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 Kare Enga