Posted in Photos, Poetry

Earth’s Cry (Shadows Implied)

I sleep best on those nights when we slip out of the garments of artificial light and secret our naked souls onto the upper deck filling our bodies with wine poured from the drinking gourd and placing Polaris at our backs trace the paths of the wanderers sometimes with a telescope to look at the bright drops of imagination that circle Jupiter where they say we may find life beneath the ice of Europa which always brings me back to Earth’s Cry and when yawn turns to yawn and all the wine is gone the game begins of cocooning between the chilly sheets without the rudeness of lights to break the spell and open our eyes to the reality of night fears.

The bright cry of earth

Wanderer in the night sky

She is of the dance

 

© Jilly’s Poem & Photo

Please join us at dVerse where we are writing in the Haibun form.

Our Haibun prompt is Shadows; forgive me if I wrote rather loosely on that topic.  This is perhaps more about the lack of shadows or the implied shadows.  It’s what flowed from these fingers today!

 

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27 thoughts on “Earth’s Cry (Shadows Implied)

  1. I have a binoculars, but it is not easy to see the stars clearly at night. I have heard about possible life on Europa and perhaps elsewhere. Although it isn’t as accurate as I like I use an app on my phone to identify those planets. I should be able to point the phone at a position in the sky or below me and see a map of visible stars in that direction.

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    1. OH! What is the app? I mostly know the sky, but have only been in Orlando for 7 years and still struggle at times. I remember living in ChiTown and not seeing the stars. Sometimes we just drive out into the country to see the sky. (Clearly, this is a topic I could ramble on about.)

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  2. I thought about freedom and the joy of being “naked souls” ~ There are night fears but there’s also magical spell of the night, when she is of the dance ~

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  3. I truly enjoy reading your prose as much as I do your poetry. Every word fits exactly to my ear — much like the rock farm walls of New England, where true craftspeople seek exact shapes to build without mortar. Is poetry art or craft? Yes. And yours is both, Jill.

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  4. That’s a great title, Jilly with shadows implied! I especially love the ‘garments of artificial light’ and ‘when yawn turns to yawn and all the wine is gone the game begins of cocooning between the chilly sheets without the rudeness of lights to break the spell and open our eyes to the reality of night fears’. Nicely done!

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