I’m nervous about this week’s blog being a picture-poem. Calligraphied pic-poems since a teen, but didn’t share lots til recently (mostly in oral tradition). In fact, I usually make them only for my own use. As is the case with the one below. But then decided to share it. Sharing my poems when they’re a pic-poem is intimate, feels even more risky than sharing my usual poetry! So…gulp. (Though others would differ, I find this barely a picture poem, but I’m compelled to share it. If you like it, then I’ll share wilder, more pictorial pieces.)
If the pic-poem isn’t big nuf, click on it. When a new window opens, be sure it’s open all the way; the image’ll be larger.
This picture poem is a contemplation, ritual, vision…ok, I’m being a bad bard. Bad mystic, bad! The ecstatic path unfurls itself, if you let it. Which is part of what the pic-poem is about, so I’d better try to walk my talk! So I’ll let the pic-poem speak 4 itself. Blessings on our day, moi