Dive For Dreams

     For a time I stopped collaging, but the last few months, knowing I'm going to be on the water, knowing a profound transformation is occurring and I am becoming and becoming and becoming, I've been collaging up a storm.  It's almost as if I want a heart full of images to feed upon as I sail Mother Ocean.

     This little 5 by 7 collage came the last few weeks.  A simple thing with only 4 images, I knew it immediately as complete.  Only today did I find the e. e. cummings poem that seems to be its perfect match, as if the poem was waiting deep in my soul for me to dive and discover it.  I wonder sometimes at all we know but do not know, and how we walk our lives like a labyrinth, twisting and turning through the maze of us, only to find at the heart myth and magic, angels and demons, heroes and heroines, astonishing stories out of what we thought was ordinary.



dive for dreams

dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind) 
trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward) 
honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at the wedding) 
never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for good likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth) 
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves, since Doom
(with white longest hands
neating each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds 
-before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping
through the morning) kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were. 

silently if, out of not knowable 

silently if, out of not knowable 
night's utmost nothing,wanders a little guess 
(only which is this world)more my life does 
not leap than with the mystery your smile 
sings or if(spiralling as luminous 
they climb oblivion)voices who are dreams, 
less into heaven certainly earth swims 
than each my deeper death becomes your kiss 
losing through you what seemed myself,i find 
selves unimaginably mine;beyond 
sorrow's own joys and hoping's very fears 
yours is the light by which my spirit's born: 
yours is the darkness of my soul's return 
-you are my sun,my moon,and all my stars 

by e.e. cummings