Woodstove Ways

Hearth

Life surrounds fireside - eclipse worldly time
Slow light enters corners - cobwebs need not be swept away
Dust of life lingers against hard edged granite -
Dry air cause heat fluctuations - measure the room -
Imagined mountain flakes off into baked brick -
As I look upon material gained - a world is seen past -
Hauled by most likely a man - inside - outside toil -
Reward not seen immediate - held together by hope -
Infused particulate - stone - wood - metal - elements molecular -
Wind past the forest whisper of - fell the trees - warmth stands tall -
Is it simplicity - work of matter and muster it up -
As seasonal light transforms hardened worry - glow exists -
Edge of granite quarried - hard enough to know better -
Sharp sees along a geometric encounter of - pattern -
Hang clothing cut from material somewhere grown -
Field of wearing ripples in a wind song - howl of winter -
Everyday sound - feet on wood - clothes on wooden hanger -
Creak the door open - creak the bones that grown worn as years go by -
It is a task of keep - the fire going - the warmth arising -
Gaze into a woodstove window - recollection ancient ancestors - carry out -
As moon rides a curl of sky stars - arc of star asters shine into my eyes -
Walk past iron stove - holding heat - feel warmth of comfort -
Safety comes in panels unfolded - is the work sufficient -
Meaning found in a study of wood - wood work - present day -
See into growth of tree - heart of labor - an etched life -
Winter light casts a hope of glimmer seen - back through all the years -
Solstice ways found in the slant of sun - revealed tale eternal -

By Linden of The Bone Lines

Pamela Coleman Smith:The Untold Story by Greer, O’Connor, Parsons

Pamela Coleman Smith - The Untold Story

Today, I share the tapestry of a biography, a long hidden revelation titled Pamela Coleman Smith: The Untold Story, where prose and poetry waltz hand in hand, orchestrated by the soulful words of Mary Greer, Elizabeth Foley O’Connor, and Melinda Boyd Parsons.

As I read this comprehensive volume, I found myself whisked away to the sepia-tinted days of the early 1900s, an epoch tinged with artistic fervor and societal metamorphosis. The biography, akin to a spellbinding sonnet, paints the canvas of time with vibrant strokes, breathing life into Pamela's existence. The poetic biography of her life is a feast to savor slowly.

This narrative deftly unravels the tapestry of Pamela's talents, revealing her not merely as the artist behind the iconic Rider-Waite Tarot deck but as a poet, a playwright — a luminary of the arts. The artist’s art unfurl like tendrils, delicately tracing her journey through Bohemian enclaves, entwined with the shadows also present in Smith’s life. The authors wide ranging narrative is comprehensive while also being academically rich.

Within these pages, the biography unearths Pamela's spiritual world - a dance between mysticism and the esoteric. The author’s guide us through the labyrinth of Pamela’s soul's exploration, unveiling the symbiotic embrace between her spiritual sojourns and the kaleidoscopic symbolism that dances through her tarot canvases as well as her rich and varied other works of art.

Pamela emerges not only as an artist but as a phoenix, resilient against the tempests of a male-dominated artistic sea. Her struggles, a poignant melody, resonate through the narrative, echoing the spirit of a woman who dared to carve constellations in the night sky.

The author’s, interlace the narrative with epistolary sonnets, love letters from time, whispers of Pamela's soul painted onto the parchment of time. These artist works, woven like threads of gossamer, draw us into an intimate pas de deux with the enigmatic artist.

And what is a lyrical odyssey without a visual sonnet? The biography, a gallery of dreams, presents a myriad of visuals — a kaleidoscope of Pamela's artistry. Her illustrations, like verses in an ancient manuscript, unfold before our eyes, inviting us to revel in the intricacies of her creativity.

In summation, Pamela Coleman Smith: The Untold Story is not just a biography; it is a sonnet of ages, a melodic exploration of creativity, spirituality, and the uncharted seas of a woman's soul. So, adorn yourself in the cloak of anticipation, brew a cup of moonlit tea, and let the enchanting artistry of Pamela Coleman Smith fill your senses. This is a poetic journey whispered through the pages of time — an artists mapped journey - awaiting your eager steps.

Biography Work
I plan to write poetic pieces while reflecting on Coleman Smith’s life after reading this book and examining her art work. There are many creative ways to come to this work. One exercise might be to pick a tarot card and write prose or poetics - what this card brings to the surface for you. Try not to measure your writing in any way. Simply - write from a place of curious exploration. The influence of her art in The Tarot is immeasurable as a body of deep influence. Utilizing The Tarot in Biography work is a life long journey filled with rich imagery and inner reflections. Have you found resonance with The Tarot or Pamela Coleman Smith’s life body of work?

Mary K Greer’s Blog

Harvest

Held

I have enough - held by starlight - star keys
I look toward - past expectant hope - instead presence
Star cloaked hieroglyphics encoded - creates mapped DNA
Ancient abundance - found in blueberries - mushroom messages
Carried less into fields - after the mountains let go -
Climbed high - mountain goat tactics - forgotten why I came
Get busy with stance of stopped - directionality is diffuse
Tree ancestors - benevolent kind - held by rings of wisdom
Raven calls in early sunrise - forgotten warmth sparkles - edges
One day there is a basket full - all that is - wanted
Dropped seeds hold - potentiality of you
Rosehips are my hips - weighted worry
Follow the path - into a forest of yesterday
Shines your busyness - forgotten living - enough time
I stand with knowledge stone - seer will is asked for - heavenly
Still simple - internal gaze - spiral past desire
Words are prayer - food of find ways - I give all of it away

~Linden
The Bone Lines

Weft Shaman Weaver of Mountains

Folded In

Layers of petals wrap around a body of soil - engaged with growing
Heave in and out - grandiose gesture encompasses want -
If grasped too tightly - slowly the remedy slips away -

A seed drops from the sky - entangled message spreads far and wide -
The Call of Birds begins - song to songbird - held between beaks of breaking -
Magnificent turkey is the highest flyer - sky high in air currents - dial in -

Vision like hawks gathered for soaring - geothermal patterns map -
Wings bend in directions against all odds - whispers like engines -
Carried grasp on backs of messengers - encoded response listens -

I send up a weavers prayer - edge of Iona receives the note -
Waves of longing lap against the cliffs - sea moss draped round shoulders -
Siren song of the sea - hear a missive of the missing -

Hardened edges bring formation of crystalline patterns - called in to dream -
As seals catch the dripping sorrow - ships continue to carry sourced lack -
Wave past oldened image - etched treasure is clutched against golden apples-

~Linden
The Bone Lines

The Beloved Dead Oracle by Carrie Paris & Tina Hardt

Self Preservation

Holding out your hand I grabbed hold as you pulled me toward Florence Nightingale,
Aids crisis in full blown catastrophe - walk in rooms with full regalia on,
Lost souls - reaching toward please help me - will I die poems written all over their face.

Too young to fully grasp - disaster full speed ahead - look aside,
A life to lead - imprinted with - you just never do know - ever,
Scars etched upon a soul - try to remain bright eyed - when deep down you have seen some shit.

Leave the moans behind a closed curtain - smells of alcohol stinging eyes,
That doctor flirts - he tries to escape the tragedy - knows powerlessness,
Best hope is sculpted with prescription of - take care of business now.

Skeletons of desire - recall lost recollection - last rites,
I wrap your body in white - a hurried convention - quick find a moment,
To wipe tears of lost - as humanity scrapes past - all of the unknowing nothingness.

And now memory - souls of knowing - collide in all moments of pain seen,
Beloved Death is found in - lands scorched in belief,
A toll rings - bells are siren sound reminders of yesterdays pure white shrouds.

A mist rises across earthen blunder,
Pulse of missed heart beats - scratched directions in the dirt,
The best can be done - in shadow casted east to west - hidden revealed.

~Linden of The Bone Lines

The Beloved Dead Oracle by Carrie Paris & Tina Hardt