Contradictory Abstract Nouns

This week I am exploring the naivete in wisdom and the wisdom in naivete. Yesterday, while reading The Senses: Design Beyond Vision edited by Ellen Lipton and Andrea Lipps, I read, “Sensory design activates touch, sound, smell, taste, and the wisdom of the body.” That really opened up this week’s study for me. I already found my naivete in wisdom: I was only thinking of wisdom as a mental property. “Wisdom of the body, has a lot to do with homeostasis, but I’m just starting to think about it. I’ll be talking more about it throughout the week. Happily, the idea of wisdom of the body, goes great with Tourmaline .’s prompt “skeleton.” The visual prompt for #Writober titled “Owl Queen,” also fits perfectly with naive wisdom and wise naivete. I love it when all the prompts come together. 😍

OctPoWriMo

I was mistakenly under the impression that October Poetry Writing Month (OctPoWriMo) wasn’t happening this year. But this morning, I received a nice note from Morgan letting me know where to find this year’s prompts. This year’s theme “Growing Your Creative Soul,” and the first prompt, “Shine your light,” fit so well with the amazing summer I’ve been having. It’s October and I spent most of yesterday swimming in the lake with my nieces. I’ve had incredible months of light and growth.

So I have some free-writing to do on how I shine my light, and an ode or sonnet to write about a Thunderstorm. But now it’s Day 3 and the prompt is Spirals of Creation. The loop form is recommended. I wasn’t going to use it, thinking the loop form was one long stanza using the last word of a line to start the next line, but there are two other variations. I like the third one for this poem.

New Poem

It’s also Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub. The prompt for Quadrille #161 is “track.”

Track the Spiral Back

It’s naive
to believe

wisdom lies
in ideas: it resides

among connections
connections like threads
threads of web
webbing truths

once weighed and lived,
applied, sifted

through, with devotion,
all one’s previous notions

wisdom is looping
a looping track
track the spiral
spiral back

Tourmaline .’s Halloween Challenge

Today’s prompt is skeleton. Thinking about how weird and horrifying it would be if we could see the skeleton’s within the people and creatures around us, talking and walking around, I made a wire “skeleton” and added it to the Monster Me filters from Day 1.

Writober Flash Fiction

Today’s image is called “Owl Queen” on Pinterest and Imgur, but I ran into trouble trying to find who the artist is or any more about the work. It’s fun that this image coincided with this first day of looking at wisdom and naivete. I definitely didn’t plan it. It begs the question, does the naive young woman sit among wise old owls, or are the owls being naive?

Here’s the beginning of Aiolyn Among the Owls:

By the end of summer Aiolyn had no choice but to run away. Mom wouldn’t even notice, she was so wrapped up in her newest summer fling. But he had noticed Aiolyn, and she didn’t like the way his eyes poured over her, wet and sweaty. He always managed to get too close, so he would have to brush up against her with his bulging biceps, and bulging thighs, and other bulges.

Her new life in the forest was fun at first. Grandpa thought it was important for her to learn all about the local flora and fauna, so he took her along on his nature walks as soon as she could keep up which was a couple years before he passed. So she was great at foraging, and there were plenty of berries and greens. But soon the nights made her shiver and she woke up damp. Greens were now brown, and the berries were gone. Aiolyn dug for roots and made a fire. She kept telling herself she would be okay, but then the rain came.

When the rain fell so hard it broke through her shelter, she began to think maybe Mom was done with sweaty-bicep-man. She could go home at least until spring. But what if there was someone worse? Or what if Mom was in one of her post-man moods? No, she was better off on her own.

Then the owls came. At first their shiny eyes in the branches, watching, scared her. She thought maybe they were hungry, too. But then something fell and hit her shoulder. A strange, papery, gray egg fell at her feet. Then more and more fell. She covered her head with her arms until the sound of them falling stopped. She gently picked them up and placed them in her sad, wet shelter.

Maria L. Berg Writober7 Day 3