SEEKING ORACLES
Donna Snyder
She gazes at the flame between her eyes, holds her breath until she is nothing but heart, the world’s pulse between her ears. She finds black feathers at her doorstep, unsure if the augury is good or ill. Each night she folds her legs and disappears into the sacred fire. She greets the sunrise with a sigh.
Voices echo conversations on eschatology and doom. She hides from them behind guitars’ excruciating sweet. Words repeat themselves perpetually in silence. She sees pictures on the wall where there are none.
She knows little of souls but talks to the dead, visits them in their tombs inside her body. Somewhere outside her head, the smell of palo santo smolders. Somewhere, the sounds of hard wind through metal and water dripping. Floorboards creak and a door closes, of their own accord. She never knows whether her ghosts linger, or if she binds them to her, refusing to let them go.
In her sleep, she wraps herself in sheets like Lazarus. When she wakes, she arises from the grave into a world of dust and blinding sun, the desert heat a shroud. There are no dreams here, just her third eye ablaze. She dresses in the memory of rain. Her hair a burning nimbus, her reflection falls into the caves beneath her eyes.
Everything is bleached as coyote bones in this landscape she wanders, and every living thing has thorns. The path is full of rock, forlorn scat, and sorrow. Everyday she trips and falls.
When the flame fades she returns to now, along with ordinary sight. The flicker of candles glows on the other side of her eyelids. The sound of heartbeat subsides and that of barking dogs and sirens resume. She realizes the music had been inside her head, as had the desert, the thorns, and the talking dead.
Oh Wow what a fantastic visual feast this prose evokes. I entered the “space in between” while reading… thank you
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Sara, thank you for reading it and feeling it.
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Sara.
I’ve lost contact with you and almost all others. Hope you are well.
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I am in Abiquiu! Huge adjustment – love the desert – but oh the house problems..ugh
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You moved!!!!! That’s great. Winter in Northern New Mexico!!!
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yep, for now anyway – lots of crazy making stuff but so much beauty!
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Where have you been? Let’s catch up shall we?
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I’ve been holed up in my home, mostly curled into a fetal position around my dog.
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Oh no – those times are so hard…. and I have had a few of them here – already – thanks for letting me hear from you again
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xo
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I’m sorry to hear you’ve had some lows. Do you still have my email. My emails are all messed up, and the address book in both email and phone are, too. Let’s reestablish correspondence when you have a moment to drop me a line.
Best wishes for a beautiful autumn.
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No I don’t have your email
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Things reappear in many email. I’ll look again.
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I think I keep writing the wrong Sara in my address book. Surely you are still in there somewhere. My yahoo account was all messed up. Missing messages. Missing contacts. I got a message from yahoo saying some governmental entity hacked my account. Maybe better now. I want to hear about Ghost Ranch, the move, etc. I appreciate the friendship we shared, the support you’ve given me in tough times.
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I have had some of the same problems email addresses disappearing… not getting emails etc. I have turned my blog into a temporary journal so that I can keep track of what is happening – its been an amazing adjustment – but I have had some amazing experiences – and no you are not in my email addresses -very bizarre Donna.
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Pingback: Seeking Oracles published in BorderSenses Vol. 21 | poetry from the frontera
I echo Sara’s sentiments. “Seeking Oracles” is a beauty! Thanks.
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Thanks for reading it, Harriet. I’m so pleased you like it.
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Pingback: Seeking Oracles published in BorderSenses Vol. 21 | life: acoustic & amplified
Such insights , donna, and the inside journeying among the dead – whether human or lost dreams. You capture so perfectly the personal inward voyages. Wonderful piece of prose. So glad for the opportunity to read. Love and peace to you always.
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Thank you, Phibby. I’m glad you think I capture the experience.
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very moving, can identify so well with this. ❤
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Thanks, Phibby. What great things to say. I’m pleased you can identify although it seems so bleak and miserable I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
Thank you for reading and commenting.
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