Thursday, April 5, 2012

Letters

Sand Painting - Mandala

Letters

I sent a letter
written in sand

colors aglow.
I don’t know

what it said
but it was true.

 I sent a letter
written in salt

dug deep as it requires,
white as my desires.

I sent a letter
written in light

that burned as
each page turned


till there was 
no more night.


April 2012





Another hedgewitchian dream message 
in 55 incomprehensible pieces, 
for the G-Man 





Image: Sand Painting--Mandala, by Henry Law on flick'r
Caption: "This was done by Tibetan monks in Brighton then destroyed to show the impermanence of everything."
Shared under a Creative Commons 2.0 Generic License

28 comments:

  1. sand salt and light...i kinda like my nights so if you could maybe send me the first one...sand i can deal with...even if i cant read it...bet its always shifting though...but if i got a papercut with the second it would be all over....

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    1. Yeah, like when you have one and go for the salt and vinegar chips...sigh. I remember those. Thanks for reading, brian--I'm amazed your eyes still work after yesterday.

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  2. I have never encountered such letters! I cannot even be sure of the proper amount of postage!

    Okay, you *knew* I had to say something like that, right?

    This must have been a remarkable dream. As a general rule, light is always a positive sign in dreams.

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    1. It felt pretty positive though hard to tell when you're in a coma. Hopefully, the postage on weightlessness hasn't gone up lately, or I'm getting them all back.

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  3. Very intriguing! You must be exhausted in the mornings after all your dreams.

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    1. Thankfully i don;t have them every night--but it's no worse than sitting up with baby goats, anyway. ;_)

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  4. how did baby goats work there way into the conversation? :)

    This is nice penned (or typed). Really like this:

    "colors aglow.
    I don’t know


    what it said
    but it was true."

    r.m. @ newviewfromhere.wordpress.com

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    1. Teresa has them--(actually, Teresa's mother goats have them, but I assume she has to walk the floor with them every once in awhile.)Thanks for reading.

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    2. Ahhhh....
      Don't be so Freudian!
      What about the 18 dreams that you didn't remember?
      But thanks for sharing your complex noggin with us..:-)
      Loved your dre...er 55!!
      Thanks for sleeping, and have a Kick Ass Week-End
      Happy Easter

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    3. Nobody has ever thanked me for sleeping before. *preens* I'm pretty good at it, if I say so myself--except when I'm up all night writing down weird stuff. Have a chocolaty, gooey easter, dude.

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  5. Lovely to read, and envision.......beautiful writing, Joy. "till there was no more night." 55 words, hey? You made each one count.

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  6. Ah! Very nice! You are more than "treading water."

    See the thing is I'm a prose (fiction) writer by nature; you are a poet.

    Agh.

    K.

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    1. p.s. I should have put a comma after "see." (Ha!)

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    2. Ha! and, Sez You. 'See the thing is' is almost one word. ;-)

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  7. ... I'm too tired to dream lately! :) I wake up worried I have forgotten to do something.

    Can't decipher it for you, but it sounds like an intriguing dream...

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    1. That's okay--I gave up trying to figure them out a long time ago. Hope you get some good rest, Margaret.

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  8. You have the coolest dreams! I'm just wandering around my old school in my underwear or something.

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    1. Ha! I get those too--and sometimes I bite the kids I hated.

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  9. You do have cool dreams. And you remember them. Very handy for poem making.

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  10. The poem is almost as tiny as grains of sand or salt, but it really shines, as I think about forgetting most of what happens (I never remember poems I've written, except for a few). Like light that's new every day, or the sand flattened after being swiped by the wind or a hand, the message can be new every morning, though we probably bring the same old soul along on the journey. Somehow, I think the soul is always bright, no matter what dark curtains she peers through at times.

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  11. Dreams and poems are inscribed in and torn from the same breviary, especially here. I love triads- here sand, salt, light -- for they somehow fill up the heart (it must have three depths, as the goddess had three aspects). Here is a beach I savor, a 55 more alive than I've seen among its neighbors. - Brendan

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    1. Thanks, B. Yes, three is a good number that builds on itself. The colors were really intricate, and the white was really white...This one was right before waking, sent me scrambling for the pad.

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  12. You are a poet and know how to use repitition to your advantage and make us hang on every word.

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    1. Very cool poem! and sooo true!! those amazing designs- you nailed it thanks!

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  13. I love the very idea behind this, Hedge. Perhaps because I dreamed of letters myself this past week: such an ephemeral form of communication, which your sand and salt and night has captured so well. Brilliant composition.

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  14. "I don’t know
    what it said
    but it was true."

    That is very cool (and intriguing in a writer's dream).

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg