Skip to main content

A NEW DANCE OF MOON AND SEA by Tiffany Chaney

Sometimes there is only falling…

You don’t quite stop. Fall so far and fast enough—Sometimes it feels like flying. You wonder when the crash comes, when passion burns up again. What happens when it doesn’t need stoking? Yet, all things in our incarnate world are subject to time. Can the carnal provide a realm for understanding, alchemy of the self, and transmutation through togetherness?

When you’re falling, whether you’re a shooting star or photons streaking from sun to moon to water, you’re present in the alchemy. Sometimes, when falling, you’re with the right person; with someone who teaches you as you teach them. They don’t supply any answers or make any excuses.

Yet, you feel that thing beyond infatuation, that alchemy that could change everything, if only; but it is the edge, a reflection of other we see, an alcove of safety we carve together as lovers loving each other.

It is the risk. It is a trust.

It is both.

It is both, which echo the call in the heart.

~

The following poem is a villanelle, the first formal structure I found that comes as easily to me as free verse. I was inspired to write in this form after reading Sylvia Plath’s A Mad Girl’s Love Song (1951), composed in the same structure, which has become a favorite poem not by conscious choice but by resonance, by its call; to me, this is the most important element of poetry.

Scholars who favor the study of such forms note the villanelle for its often treatment of obsessions in its ballad-like structure, having no fixed poetic form aside from its repetition of certain lines, so very reminiscent of times when poetry was passed down through oral tradition. The villanelle gives a whimsical structure to the unnamed for me. It provides the trust, where the words play with risk, and in this the falling finds its way.

A New Dance of Moon and Sea

It may be unwise to risk, but
like the moon coerces the tides and stars shoot out to sea,
I want to call you back to me.

Your just-right-touch shivering the sea of my spine,
a dance of tide and need and skies thick with clouds,
I want to call you back to me.

It may be unwise to risk, but
how meteors fall from the sky and burn
dangerously igniting—I think that’s me

I think that’s me, maybe, falling
falling past you falling past me, falling
I want to call you back to me.

It may be unwise to risk, but
what if we can catch one another
and still be as the moon and as the sea?

If our dance of wild moon cries,
and stormy steps map a new cartography?
It may be unwise to risk, but
I want to call you back to me.



Tiffany Chaney is a N.C. based poet, a witchy woman that still swings on the swing set and wishes on stars. Her poetry collection Between Blue and Grey won the 2013 Mother Vine Festival Award for Best in Poetry. She has been published in the Virginia Quarterly Review (InstaPoetry), Rebelle Society, Thrush Poetry Journal, and through Moon Books, among others. Tiffany believes in personal story weaving. Symbols, reading pattern and metaphor, whimsy, story-telling, and good old empathy are her calling in life. She paints naked people and people naked, naked trees and trees naked, and non-naked things that are really naked. Tiffany seeks to inspire others to reclaim the whimsy and creativity within, to hold ourselves accountable for authoring the narratives of our lives. Get in touch with her via her website or Facebook.

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MY HEART SEEPS by Edith Lazenby

Courage is not only facing fear, but also looking past fear, to see what lies it tells and truths it saves...
Sometimes I sit at a computer in trepidation. The house trembles and I wonder what I will find. 
Truth is not a fact or a feeling. It may rest on love’s heart and walk with integrity. It may stand beyond humanity in ways we can only imagine. Truth can be solid as earth and fickle as wind. But a wind can know stillness and the earth can crack wide open.
Tonight I found a stillness in a crack and managed to balance there...


My Heart Seeps
by Edith Lazenby
I cannot hold on And I cannot let go. I walk a path I don’t know. I feel moonlight But cannot see Its orb midst The cloudy cold. My hands tremble. My eyes tear. My toes wriggle To grasp earth. I want to stand Tall in the light Yet fear shadows all. Inside I crumble Under the weight I cannot shoulder.

FOR THE SISTERS by Tammy T. Stone

These days, I’m finding it difficult – along with many, many others - not to feel disheartened...
I'm disheartened by the feeling that chaos has descended upon us, at the negativity and fear, the anger and reactivity, the violent spirit of animosity characterizing the times. It’s hard not to give in to the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, even as we cling to the strong conviction that it is our positivity and our love that will prevail.
Every crevice of my heart goes out to the suffering (and we are all suffering when one of us suffers), and my heart aches for the untold numbers of women around the world who are immediately and devastatingly affected by recent decisions to cut funding to organizations vital to their health and wellbeing, a movement that horrifyingly undermines women’s sovereignty over their own bodies. Words do not do the feeling justice.
It feels to me that the earth itself is overturning, that our fragile grasp of what is right and true, of our incredibl…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…