On the 12th day of mistYmuse
we welcome Advent Calendarists,
with severe weather in the news
remember, fogs are thicker than mists,
I didn’t know that was the only difference
until just now reading the website World Atlas.
World Atlas: If visibility is less than 0.6 miles it is referred to as fog; if visibility is above 0.6 miles, it is called mist.
The way I see sunrays sweetly sing, and songbirds softly shine, I think it must be… mistYmuse week…
Through Trees Horizon, Inspirational Words Arising
mistYmuse return, yet again
*unsane – intentional non-word, describing state neither sane or insane.
*fane – temple. Found while looking for ‘feign’ originally!
* inane – recognition that this is ‘just’ art.
*mistYmuse – Y joining two m-words.
Bottom half changed course from:
Iridescence makes more sense,
After flying clouds of white n grey
Showed a purple n green hue
Passing through the sunrise’s
Before, I only saw still clouds brightened this way.
It made me think sun is the dominant member in the partnership.
Before, I had thought it was clouds.
Clouds are the canvas. Sun is the painter.
Times they are a changin’… Although summer is holding on in Britain, and could even be roaring back later this week, the nights are drawing in, and nature seems to be readying itself for the annual change from summer to autumn (fall). Over the last few days I noticed the leaves rustling in the wind.
They’ve probably done it at other times in the summer, and maybe it’s more in my mind, but the trees seemed to be shaking themselves up for the big change. Here’s a Folding Mirror poem it inspired, imagining what summer and autumn are saying in their greeting:
Good Summer Season, Warmly Welcomes Autumn
summer meets autumn
after year apart
shaking windy branches
upturned leaves smile
under changeable skies
warm greeting over, time for disclosure
my best season
for many years
autumn changes mood
I worked overtime
winter was late
It is nearly August. While spring in the northern hemisphere feels like a time to restore sunshine levels, late summer feels like a time to store up for the winter. Here’s a Folding Mirror poem with that theme:
Preparing for Summer Departure, No Time for Laughter
Two days left of July
the sky seemed to cry.
August, the last summer month
does the sun think we’ve had enough.
September and October last
warm winds keep winter at bay.
our star doesn’t really leave, it’s our planet’s circling weave
It’s the south’s turn to face
Australasia and Africa tilt.
Our annual repetitive cycle space planetary gravity
365, and a quarter days.
Colourful leaves before snowy scenery
six months before next spring.
Marc Latham’s new Folding Mirror poem celebrates the joys of the spring season, when memories of cold winter lose dominance to hopes for warm summer, and new life emerges into the heat of a greening world. For long-living species like ours it is an annual cycle, but for some it lasts for just a few hours of our day; a time when they frantically follow their instincts, trying to make good of their life for their species, unburdened by distractions… although other life forms might try and eat them! It’s all of joy and interest to us anyway. Here’s the poem:
Abundant Life, Lives Absolutely
sunrise of the year
should be spring
spins life cycle
open sky fuels life, nourished by faraway sun
birds and bees
making the most
of their natural time
Marc Latham’s latest Folding Mirror poem was inspired by the current cold spell in the UK, with snow on the ground in Leeds for the first time this winter. It seems ironic that the most wintrish of symbols should be falling now that the days are getting noticeably lighter; nearly a month after the ‘shortest day’; suggesting that spring is around the corner. Here’s the poem:
Late Snow Arrives, All Seasons Leave
ancient trees three months bare
snow in my hair
but spring is in the air
Easter begins to knock, light lasts past four-o’-clock
old winter is shown the door
sun rules once more
new life dresses Earth’s floor