Shape shifter,
Sometimes winged,
Sometimes four legged.
Woman, man, fish, amoeba,
Bone and card reader,
Weaver of dreams,
Midwife and mortician,
Magician and Fool.
Beyond right and wrong,
Always and forever
He is deeply here
At the pulsing center
Of my life,
And I dance his mystery
Into drumming kaleidoscopes
Of wonder.
Art and Poem by Clinock.
Sculpture: Shaman, by Clinock. H. 13″ x W. 5″ x D. 5″. Fired and stained clay.
Sometimes, when I stare down
the silvered hallways,
my father stares back.
Listen.
This you should know my son:
Where sea touches sand
auguries multiply.
In the bellies of starfish,
in the jungles of wrack,
in the salty galaxies of shells
auguries are born.
Look.
This rock is a skull,
that cloud, an eagle,
and do you see the mermaid
in that drift of sand and seaweed
when the light is, just so?
Now close your eyes
and trace the Shaman’s face
with your sea blind fingers.
It was carved from this driftwood
by a magician,
singing to you.
Inundated and confused
I lean into visions,
unable
to decipher anything.
Brave maps become
empty paper bags
dancing in the wind.
Desires become
cascades of crows
released from clouds,
spiraling
through bones of trees.
“Try to lean toward ecstasy”
she said,
“and maybe, if possible,
keep leaning.”
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Kudos, thanks and credit to the anonymous driftwood sculptor.
Poem and photograph by clinock.
art rat cafe 