A Bolt of Blue…

Not FROM the blue in this case. Day 4 of NaPoWriMo has asked us to take an image from a dream and weave it into today’s poem. We are asked to dive right down to the seabed of our subconscious and bring up an image from that seabed what might be a pearl, or maybe just only an oyster.I am not usually an adept dream catcher, but it so happens that I did have one dream in recent memory that had an arresting image. What was edifying with this exercise is that I teased out a deeper interpretation of the whole dream simply by excavating around this image.

A bolt of cloth
 
It found me, that bolt of blue,
very indigo, very Pantone 2020,
a very on trend hue, apparently.
But spangled with sequins!
More Shirley Bassey than our Bee…
 
From it will be the robe
of what I have become to be.
Even with all the glitter and sparkle
it says that I am trustworthy.
I am a woman for all seasons.
 
The raw material is in my hands.
There is sparkle in this bolt of blue.
I can make and shape and marshal
the forces that I can command.
It is now my second skin.
 
This bolt of cloth is my new mantle.
It confers a blessing and a sweetness.
With this cloth dyed in goddess Mary's hue
I accept that I can be, that I am,
now -  finally - my own high priestess.
 
Copyright © Bee Smith, 2020. All rights reserved.

To help you to visualise the blue I describe you can see the Pantone Colour of the Year 2020 below. The background to the colour of the year for 2020 can be found on this link. https://www.pantone.com/color-intelligence/color-of-the-year/color-of-the-year-2020.

Classic blue

How did they know that they should be illustrating the safe social distance of 2 metres in their promo pic? Huh!

Featured image is a Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

Journeying

We are all sojourners, temporarily resident on this precious planet. I woke early this Sunday morning and broke my usual writing routine. I played with the Saturday paper’s crossword first. Once I had tanked up with a second very large mug of tea I dipped into Ruth Padel’s The Poem and the Journey. Poems, as with journeys, are built on connections. As are all human relationships. Brené Brown has observed that we humans are hard-wired for connection Yet, any number of studies in any number of countries are warning that we are in an epidemic of loneliness, which will shorten a life span faster than smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, over-eating, or not taking exercise. No wonder there is a demand for poetry anthologies that offer prescriptions like a literary rescue remedy.

Travellers are often those hungry for new connections. So, too, I believe is true for poets. There are many forms of journeying. But the prefered destination for all is genuine connection.

Two little poems this sunny Sunday morning. The first is for a writer friend who is wrestling with a manuscript while on a sojourn in a friend’s borrowed mountain cabin.. Retreats are often places where we best connect. It’s a quotation poem that takes its first line from Margaret Atwood on writing. The title is robbed from a line in an R.S. Thomas poem. Writers have a tendency for moods swinging between thinking that what they have written is the most wonderful arrangement of words ever and then that all they do is play with a pile of crap.

despair, writing, trail

And emerging from my early morning dreamland.

Night Passage

I sail , Chagall-like,
in inky illumination,
and colliding dimensions,
meeting those close to me
who are also far, far away

in a Dreamworld Departure Lounge
we will all soon fly from,
having checked in,
dropped our bags,
dutifully visited the shop's check out

where we greet each other
with delight, in surprise,
in confusion at our displacement,
this serendipitous meeting
and simultaneous leave taking.


Copyright © 2019 Bee Smith. All rights reserved.

Happy journeying through the next week.