Monday, March 28, 2016

All in a Day's Work

This week, on Luminous Traces Collective, my ongoing photo gig with the often vexatious always ultimately fulfilling theme prompts, I was called upon to create an image in response to the phrase Sun Salutation. New this season (and worth checking out, just saying), we now have a full roster of talented contributors and an open media policy allowing (and encouraging) all forms of artwork, which gives me myriad ways to be deeply frustrated and delightfully challenged on a weekly basis, with this week no exception.

Because there was no morning sun to salute or shoot today. Just this, captured before the onset of hours of precipitation unable to declare itself as either liquid or solid in nature. And me still just barely on the mend from a weeklong bout with flu the likes of which I can’t even remember having. Ever. As in, foggy, soggy, torpid, torrid, achy and exhausted on a cellular level, unable to be vertical for more than fifteen minutes at a time. As my body goes, so goes my mood. Not exactly outer or inner weather conducive to sunlit image capturing. So I was just about ready to give up and take a pass this time. Turns out, my muse kinda digs dreary despair and last minute reprieves, and helped me dredge up from the murky depths my first poem in months, and as good an answer to the prompt as any forthcoming. 

Sun Salutation

Nothing new stirs
but out of sight and so far down
it loses faith as it rises
uncertain of direction
in the long cold darkness.

But I know how it goes
waking to landscapes changed overnight
brief joys I’ve grown toward
taking me with head bowed
beyond doubt’s shadow.

This morning the trees and I
have nothing left to leave behind.
The convalescent sky
can’t hide its face of ash
behind such unfleshed fingers,

the way it always is
before some slim green thing
at last defies the hopeless surface
terrified justified free
too beautiful to not believe in.

© 2016 Gabriella Mirollo

Then, as luck, poetic justice, life imitating art, or maybe just the sheer perverse whimsy of the Universe would have it, it stopped sideways glopping. I went back outside. And I found this.

 Now the post for tomorrow is ready, as am I. Happy Spring, all.