dogtrax

The middle door, made of steel, glitters with ice crystals. The lock, too, is encrusted in frost. This is the Svalbard Global Seed Vault.

— from Thunder & Lightning (Weather Past, Present, Future) by Lauren Redniss (page 18)

First Seed Stirs

Four-ply foil bags, packed tight as rain, inside boxes, this vault contains the sealed-up seeds

of pig-weed, goose-grass, chickpea, Job's Tears, radish, yellow-rocket, mahogany, lentil, cumin, clover, flax, chicory, pear, watermelon, basil, mint, blackberry, corn -

plus thousands more sleep down there, plucked from dirt of this Earth, all stored at zero degrees, five hundred feet in sandstone for a future turned by climate, or war, or something more

These lands need rebirth; the first seed, planted, stirs

Video version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CH0IRaAiy1Y

There is an unseen path, woven by weed and grass -

a secret space by which all wild animals must pass

near us, hidden, as we laze beneath the elder trees,

using books as maps to where the journey leads,

a place, based in belief

for MastoPrompt

Owl eyes - quiet and consuming, taking in every little detail and skittish movement -

like dusk poets and dawn writers, ready for the rustlings of rodents

Such slow drip artwork; an icicle in motion takes its time to be

Hey – I know you know, but it's your birthday, sixty years to the day, sending happy your way

for DS106 (a text message poem)

and off in the distance there are drums ...

— from 'If Night Were A City' by Adam Wiedewitsch https://poets.org/poem/if-night-you-were-city?mc_cid=14fb055192&mc_eid=ed9c8bae96

and dancers visible from here, this concrete world disappears, if only for the moment we're in – we swim - and together, we lift voices to sing a song; We belong

Exist to remix but remember to honor the artist; their work represents inspiration for something deeper than you

A Tanka Oath for DS106

Gentle, yourself - go gentle

the world is chaos enough

Go gentle

for MastoPrompt

Twilight: a liminal time; the region of fiction - this middle between light and shadow where daylight retreats and midnight, the first transitioning between days

Blackout Poem with text from Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality

Visual: https://flic.kr/p/2ppPESB

It is the time of boundless possibilities, the machine spit out, then shut down, leaving us wondering where the limits really were and why

for MastoPrompt