What Goes Around

camp fireThe smoke we pass
is called Calumet
drawn in over feathers, each to each,
wreathing us in the mist of myth,
the campfire ringed in our expiration
we puff out nature’s Chameleon steam;
bank the flicker of Salamander,
snuff from our chests
the stamp and spark of heart-Steeds
retreat, as inside a Chariot of bone
to cage our contemplation.

Our flight of meditation.

Alone in our own heads,
our subconscious
connects Thought with Symbol:
a thousand stories;
a thousand Threads to pluck from,
to wind a Web
to help us apprehend.

To fathom our world,
we first sound our own depths.

Our goal is clarity but, it’s funny,
we sometimes get turned around.
We spin a Labrynth, a Mandala,
layers of divine definiton,
shades of savvy,
until everything can mean anything.
All is All. Yin is Yang,
wholeness divine:


The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 17 was to write a poem based on words taken a “specialized dictionary”. Mine happened to be a Dictionary of (mostly mythological) Symbols. “Androgyne” means divine wholeness — a vague word for a simple idea. I think sometimes our brains make our understanding of the world more difficult that it needs to be.

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  1. i particularly like the last stanza (although I also liked it all 🙂



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