A Hole in the Clouds

Posted on March 17, 2023 by Dale | 125 Comments

Monday was Prosery Monday on dVerse, hosted by the lovely Merril D. Smith. We were given the following line:

“In space in time I sit thousands of feet above the sea”
—From May Sarton, “Meditation in Sunlight”

We have 144 words to play with and it must not be in any poetic form. We must use the line, word for word, though we may change the punctuation.

Today, I was watching a talk show with and the singer Michel Rivard was the guest. He just so happened to sing the song “Un trou dans les nuages” (A Hole in the Clouds) that inspired me to participate. I translated the song and added my two cents’ worth.

They came through a hole in the clouds, landing a few paces away. I know I was chosen because they trust in me. They gave me an imaginary stone, like a crystal carved out of the blue of the night. I hid it in under the ferns in the woods and will have it in hand when they return for me.

I have suffered ridicule by all the townsfolk who point at the sky, mocking me, and calling me the village idiot for believing in them. Yet I have faith and I wait.

And now the day is come; I read it in the clouds. They alight on the clearing near the woods and shine a beam on my face. There are no witnesses, as they requested.

In space and time, I sit thousands of feet above the sea. I’ve no memory of before.

The lyrics (in French) can be found here. Deepl is a wonderful translation tool, should you be interested.

No Expectations – dVerse

Posted on February 15, 2023 by Dale | 90 Comments

On Monday, the lovely Merril hosted dVerse Prosery Monday. I promised her I would participate but it took me two days to get the words I wanted. These are still not the ones that popped into my head as I was walking but that’s how it goes, sometimes. We were challenged to use the following poetry line, but NOT in any poetry form whatsoever. We have 144 words to work with (not including the title):

“This year’s a different thing, –
I’ll not think of you.”

from Charlotte Mew, “I so liked Spring”

It’s the same thing, year after year. I tell myself not to expect anything, that way there will be no disappointments. It’s like I can’t help myself; my mind goes off on its own, raking in one thought after another, building up a scenario until I find myself thinking, yes! that’s exactly it. That’s what I want. Then I wait for it to happen ~ for some mysterious entity to come along and do the necessary to bring that random scenario to fruition. How foolish is that? I know better. I’m past the fairy tale age. There is no myth to getting what you desire. It requires effort. On MY part.

I promise myself this year’s a different thing. I’ll not think of you as that mysterious entity come to swoop in and make it happen. Having you join me will be a bonus.

Brown Paper Moon

Posted on February 15, 2022 by Dale | 110 Comments

It was Prosery Valentine Monday yesterday on dVerse, hosted by the lovely Björn Rudberg. I chose to wait until today because I wanted to try to capture the Snow Moon as close to full as possible – which is technically tomorrow… and ended up not liking what I took today so took my phone version from yesterday. Sigh. Okay, okay! I am posting today possibly because my words would not unjumble in a manner acceptable by moi though I kept trying until past 10:30 p.m., an hour past the time I was planning on hitting the hay. This writing thing can be rather fiddly, if you ask me. The phrase we must use comes from a poem by Carol Ann Duffy, entitled Valentine, which I chose to not read ahead of time – further to Björn’s suggestion. Good thing, too, now that I have! The phrase we must use in a 144-word prose, not poetry, is: It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. Isn’t that a lovely phrase? Thought it would be easy-peasy to insert. Ahem.

What is true love? Do we not all have our own definition of what is right for us?

There are those who seek the the big bang and bright lights of fireworks, believing them as true signs of love and romance. They are always in love with someone new and it’s out there for all to see. They know it is ephemeral and that is what they want, believing it is what makes them feel alive.

Not for us. How to describe our love? It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It shines brightly beneath its discreet packaging. None but the most perspicacious know of its contents and this is by our choice. It’s not that we have anything to hide in shame. It is an attempt to keep it ours. Our sacred union with it’s share of excitement and quiet and real.