dVerse — Poetics — The Wells that Never Empty

The Muses who inspire do not abandon me;round the clock they tick, sparked heartbeatsthat draw the world ever closer in varied splendor:morning’s cooled dew in Summer,pink snow of sunrise in Winter,the earth-toned blanket of Fall,and the creeping green of Spring. At dusk’s change of shift, I listen for the wingsof Mother Night as she travels…

TSM 166 — Winged Messenger

She plays moon star sky-chase’til dawn, then coyote drinks deep.Her wise open eyes closeto yellow pools in otherworldlyrealms; her work beginsas spirit wings wait for her. Carrie is today’s host of The Sunday Muse.

The Sunday Muse 158 — Dream Lover

To knock me off balance again I see you, wind-blown, in my dream. Freezing and begging for respite, I beckon, “Come, get in the car.” So cold you are! You reach for me to knock me off balance again. We cling for dear life, for our love, enduring time, circumstances. I hadn’t thought of you…

dVerse — MTB — No More Chocolate Before Bed

When the teats on the cows were so tight, and the balls on the bulls were just right; when the corn danced tango on the ass of a pig; when the rat consorted with the goat and then birthed ghoulish vermin, I woke! image:  Joan Miró, “The Tilled Field” (1923) I love Dr. Seuss and…

The Sunday Muse 155 — Poppy Dreams

Sprouted from a tiny seed it grew into a grand plan — sail folded origami over summer’s verdant land. Creases folded perfectly Its nose a consummate point Now but to wait for warm wind her realized dream annoint. Poppies begged her, “Please, do stay! You’ll ne’er return if you leave today!” Wanting to take them…

dVerse — MTB 231 — White tiger

Three white tigers and a bear followed me in after my sworn protector left for reasons unknown. One tiger stood before me in sleek striped majesty. Two with contrasting modes: my terror; her hunger. Her instinct to kill vs. my instinct to survive. Using tiger talk to distract all until able to steel my nerve…

Dark Angel for earthweal

At age of five became I blindBad nerves to blame that made me screamCursed I our God for act unkindYet all, my friend, ’twas not as seemed The act upon heaped thoughts unkindTurned out to have a brighter themeThrough haunts did stray the other fiveTo caves of dreams with golden seams Each night I searched…