Urged to stop—
or still, enough to smell the pink-tipped day
as the fast, frantic fiddle plays,
and purple breath-clouds cross the sky,
to blossom in the in-between with shadowed light,
and in this between, or in the after, you ask
why? The hot-headed goddess sits above
languidly shining bright-beamed, life seeming to
swim and sail through death-churned water—
elaborate on if, she says.
And you gaze at blue, recall the taste of honeyed-spring,
and puppy gambols, the scent of summer rain,
the sound of it falling, you falling
deep within, slowing to hear the whispers
of wind and stars, the voices of loved ones,
remembering your dreams.
My poem from the Oracle. I thought I’d try first for a cadralor or attempt another fragment poem, but my mind (or she) insists on making connections.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
…and those connections are beautiful
That is most kind, Ron. Thank you!
This warrants several readings
Thank you so much, Derrick!
Like Derrick, I agree this warrants several readings. Which I did. And I think I could come back to and still find more deliciousness.
Aww–thank you so much, Dale. 💙
🧡
I really love how you played with ‘falling’ here, Merril ❤
-David
Thank you so much, David! 💙
So magical! “elaborate on if”–just those three words contain worlds.
We both had images of the evening sky and falling into the night. Goddesses, birdlings…the in between. (K)
Thank you so much, Kerfe.
The Oracle was very clear about “elaborate on if.”
I’m off to read yours now.
This is strange (when isn’t it?) but you know I said I had two cadralore? The other one has ‘churned’ in it and it’s full of blue too.
We both had that pink dawn light, I had Brigid, and you had the hot-headed goddess. The image I almost used was a Rossetti painting that I associate with Brigid and it’s called Fiammetta!
I do like that death-churned water!
That “death-churned water” stood out to me as well.
I think the Oracle called out to me with that one–I definitely had tiles with death and water.
🙂
That is so strange–or not. 😀
And churned is not a tile word, or one that I normally use.
Nor me, but it’s also a good word. One to save and use again.
That’s what makes it stranger that we both used it. 😀
So many oddities. I’m struck that you used a ‘hot-headed goddess’.
That definitely came from the Oracle! 😀
She’s a good friend of Brigid’s.
Yes, she remembers, even if I don’t. 😏
🙂
I’ve never thought about the “smell of a pink-tipped day.” I’d like to go out in search of it.
Thank you, Liz.
I have a bit of synesthesia. Sometimes color and taste/smell blend in my brain. 😀
But I was sort of playing on stop to smell the roses.
You’re welcome, Merril. I was thinking more of the smell of the landscape when the sky is pink. (Days seem to smell different, depending on the color of the sky.)
I love the idea of the sun as a ‘hot-headed goddess.’ Too often the sun is portrayed as male!
So. . .in the weird things that I contemplate, this is actually something I’ve thought about. The moon is definitely female. (I said this the other night, and older child agreed.) But I’ve been thinking about the sun and can’t decide, so I’ve determined the sun is actually non-binary or two-spirited, if you prefer. (But goddess fit the poem.)
You’re probably sorry you mentioned it. 🤣🤣
No! No! I agree with non-binary 😅
My husband sighs or rolls his eyes when this type of conversation starts. 🤣
I agree with, Derrick. Lovely, Merril.
Thank you so much, Jill!
A dreamy, sensuous poem. Love it ❤️
Thank you so much, Marie! 💙
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. ❤
Thank you so much, Robin! 💙
I like the images in this. But my favorite part is the short line of pause in the middle,
“elaborate on if, she says.”
Thank you, Ali. I think that’s my favorite part, too. 😀
IF – you didn’t have the Oracle, what would you write on these days?
Hmm, I’m sure you’d find another miracle.
Beautiful writing, Merril!
Thank you so much, Resa!
I think the Oracle would find me and some others somehow. 😀
😀 I wonder if a Ouija Board could write?
Isn’t that what they do? But, I won’t try!