Secondly, stunning lines. You captured this one quickly and profoundly.
These are especially stellar:
layered with crimson curtains
that fate hung across the sky,
rolling red waves of jeweled fabric torn apart
We didn't manage to drive out anywhere dark enough to see it by eye, although my phone camera could just about make it out. I hope there's another burst and I'll get to see it with the naked eye.
Stunning. I love how you imbued aurora with the gentle, nurturing qualities of the feminine, while not letting go of her paradoxical origin. Such an honoring, too, of your own multiplicity as a father.
I had decided to listen instead of read you this morning, and was trying to get situated with my first cup of coffee to experience your human voice. juggling two cats, a smoothing hot blanket, and a bedside lamp that was not cooperating I heard you say,
"you are the mother you thought you never had"
Tears, lots of tears. This is not a new concept to me. I discovered this a long while back. To hear it reverberate across the plethora of difference between us, drove home the Truth of it, again.
Thank you for working on this poem. Some of my best Mothers, have been Men.
Beautiful feminine energy in these lines, the wow of this night sky experience, as physical here. Full of wonder. Like the connection of past and then into the children and eternity maybe. Rich piece as comments testify.
As someone who slept through the aurora, completely oblivious to the fact it was happening, I am glad to at least be able to read this poem in its place to conjure up the emotions that seeing it for real might have brought up. Thank you for this piece!
I’ve read this one over and over the last few weeks. Been coming back to it. I don’t even want to go into why necessarily, but it just captures something very special. Thanks for all you do Brian
Beautiful, Brian. I love how this one simply envelopes... it just falls down around you, so you don't have to go anywhere with it, just let it fall on you in your stance or seat under the sky and watch it go on with (or without) us in it, draping
Firstly, stunning photo.
Secondly, stunning lines. You captured this one quickly and profoundly.
These are especially stellar:
layered with crimson curtains
that fate hung across the sky,
rolling red waves of jeweled fabric torn apart
We didn't manage to drive out anywhere dark enough to see it by eye, although my phone camera could just about make it out. I hope there's another burst and I'll get to see it with the naked eye.
It was incredible…when we started driving I thought we would be in for disappointment but we timed it just right. Fate was on our side 🙂
"we drove for dark and dark we found"
this line works on its own. a very different meaning ("darker," you could say) without the rest of the stanzas. strong, it tolls
True! Thanks for reading!
"from horizon to heaven by her hands
revealing
that you
are the mother you thought you never had,
and you drape blankets of ancient aurora around
your children and into their ears
you boldly whisper lyrics found in you..."
When I got to this part, I held my breath I think for just a moment. So beautiful, like nurturing from a divine place.
Thanks, I’m glad that part connected with you…I know it did with me🙂
I love all the female energy and mothering imagery in these words!
Thanks Ann! The experience felt full of feminine energy.💫
Very cool how you designed the lines of print to rise up from the horizon like the bands of color in the sky.
Gorgeous, and I particularly loved the ending:
you boldly whisper lyrics found in you,
poems found in your ancestral
mother sun.
There’s so much there to wrap your heart around.
Thanks. I think there’s a lot of truth in the end 💫
Stunning. I love how you imbued aurora with the gentle, nurturing qualities of the feminine, while not letting go of her paradoxical origin. Such an honoring, too, of your own multiplicity as a father.
Thank you for reading and sharing!
I had decided to listen instead of read you this morning, and was trying to get situated with my first cup of coffee to experience your human voice. juggling two cats, a smoothing hot blanket, and a bedside lamp that was not cooperating I heard you say,
"you are the mother you thought you never had"
Tears, lots of tears. This is not a new concept to me. I discovered this a long while back. To hear it reverberate across the plethora of difference between us, drove home the Truth of it, again.
Thank you for working on this poem. Some of my best Mothers, have been Men.
I’m glad it struck a chord…poetry is meant to be felt…Thanks for reading 🌿
'that you
are the mother you thought you never had,
and you drape blankets of ancient aurora around
your children and into their ears
you boldly whisper lyrics found in you'
-
Beautiful feminine energy in these lines, the wow of this night sky experience, as physical here. Full of wonder. Like the connection of past and then into the children and eternity maybe. Rich piece as comments testify.
Thank you!
As someone who slept through the aurora, completely oblivious to the fact it was happening, I am glad to at least be able to read this poem in its place to conjure up the emotions that seeing it for real might have brought up. Thank you for this piece!
Hey, thanks! That's a very nice compliment, I appreciate it!
I’ve read this one over and over the last few weeks. Been coming back to it. I don’t even want to go into why necessarily, but it just captures something very special. Thanks for all you do Brian
Thank you Taegan!
Beautiful, Brian. I love how this one simply envelopes... it just falls down around you, so you don't have to go anywhere with it, just let it fall on you in your stance or seat under the sky and watch it go on with (or without) us in it, draping
"blankets of ancient aurora around
your children and into their ears..."
It's like a little rest along the road.
It's like a little breath caught. : )
Thank you! The feeling of falling down around you is beautiful!
So cool and so beautiful!
Thanks Troy!
This is so stunning.
Thank you Jenna!
Such lovely images and rhythm.
Thank you 🌟
"we drove for dark and dark we found, dark
layered with crimson curtains
that fate hung across the sky"
This passage stuck out to me, encapsulating that sense of pushing through the darkness, behind that curtain, find that hope, that light eternal.
Thanks Alexander, that section is one of my favorites in the piece too🙂
Gorgeous. I love how you address her, feels like a visit.
That’s kind of what it was in a way…A visit to a wise woman…