after a dream like that...
breakfast denies me an explanation the grapefruit is coy, keeps its jeweled counsel the egg is a narcissist and talks only of perfect curves and the coffee is a sly bastard but outside in the early blue the dew soaking my slippers, my hair soaking mystery is inscribed in cursive black on a handful of ravaged leaves... o joy and then, like centuries of supplicants, the wind came across the lake, up from the underworld chaos scattering s e n s e
Image: Photo by Zbysiu Rodakon Unsplash. Lisa is hosting Dverse today and asks us to use the vatic voice.
“the vatic voice of a poet is one that is infused with spirit that comes from another place. That voice has been regarded by some as a sign of divine transmission and by others as a sign of madness.”
Cumae, near Naples, was the first Greek settlement in Italy and sanctuary of an ancient Greek sybil – prophet and seer, who would write answers to the questions on an oak leaf.
And speaking of really difficult things….Yuja Wang plays Ravel’s left hand piano concerto with Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia in Rome. Ravel wrote this for the Austrian pianist Paul Wittgenstein, who lost his right arm during World War I.