• 

• 

Warp and weft,
life weaves through tides,
sun-sparkled,
moon-bedewed,
blue-waved and bleached white, patterns
form again and go

in dream worlds,
she sees. Star-gathered,
the crows come,
dark to light,
now, never, always—this is
what might be. Time is

an ocean
layered with rippling
currents, not
constant, but
ever-changing. Dark to light,
warp and weft. Again.

A Shadorma chain for Paul Brookes’ Ekphrastic Challenge. You can see all the art and poems here. I don’t have time today to write a poem based on the photos in the site mentioned into today’s NaPoWriMo prompt, but–as in this poem–I often write about liminal spaces.