Poem: Summer Solstice

Summer Solstice

Words fall from the sky
again     only summer is here and
the sun sets stunningly at orange-
red     the mountains vanish in
violet gray light and bring a
sense of stability to the horizon
on the night of solstice frivolity
in celebration of the longest day
full of sun and song     we sit on the
same porch we looked out upon six
long months ago     then holiday
lights streamed through the trees in
neighborhood yards     tonight candles
flicker on glass topped tables and
the drinks are cold     as we watch
the setting of the blazing sun.

At Long Last

It has been about six months since my back surgery and during that time my creative muse didn't come to visit. I have tried to write a poem or design a WordLayers print but, sadly, results were non-existent -- until Wednesday! On Wednesday, I came upstairs with the clear intention of making art and wanting to use pink and red art markers to make a design similar to the one I did last year titled  "Winter Solstice." Rather than the blues used to make the winter scene the pinks were calling to me and urging me to rummage through and find all shades of pink and red pens squirreled away among the jars along the art table in my studio. I had a pad of fine marking pen paper to use for "serious" artwork . . . so it went on the table, a blank page facing up. Finally, I selected one pen and swirled it around on the paper and then another and another, etc. The look of the colors nearly matched the intention and then, it was finished and ready to be scanned into the computer for design on the screen where I played with the various layers of color by cutting and pasting, cropping and moving layer by layer on the same screen until all the pieces fell into place. Then came the text; a poem was needed. The next day I wrote a poem and began to fit text onto the various color layers. It took a couple of days before Summer Solstice was complete and ready to take to the art printer across town where it sits today. I can hardly wait to see it on canvas and then to the framer. Soon there will be a new WordLayers hanging in my studio . . . a sign of post surgery success and gratitude.

A cut of the original

Solstice

A moment awakened to darkness while tiny lights fill the branches on the pine outside. A moment inhaled in silence, the longest night. A burning match lights innumerable candles. We celebrate here the splendor of dark as a gift given beyond the light of day; toast the good cheer; bless the bountiful meal; view as a movie the glowing red coals in the last fire of the Solstice. Oh, winter night I do love you from the inside apart, from the ice on the window to the warmth of the car as goodbyes move slowly down Walnut Street.