Mountain peak (troiku)

(troiku)

cherry blossoms
tender petals weep
like snowflakes

cheery blossoms reel
sighs of a woman
peaked

tender petals weep
whisper with the wind,
teardrops on ivory

like snowflakes
on tender cheeks
blush

© Tournesol ’15

river flows (haiku)

 

© Clr'15
© Clr’15

 

 

river rapids roll,
waves of doubts spill over
babbling clear waters

babbling clear waters
overflowing words
a haiku beckons

© Tournesol ’15

 

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

a silent wash of tears (haibun)

Amma

It was my first retreat. I  was sharing a room with a long time devotee I  had never met.   I was not even worried but what did unnerve me,  was how would I  react when this spiritual Mother, this world renowned guru would arrive?  Would I  feel something special within?  Would there be a sign from the universe? I was going out of curiosity that summer of 2014  as I had been seeking something to help me grow spiritually. I was open to learn.

The first day I arrived I waited with my token,  in a long line,  to be embraced by this amazing woman. I  reached the stage and sat down waiting to be summoned to move forward. I could feel my body shake out of anticipation or nervousness.
I wasn’t sure which.

My mind went back to when I had to face the bishop as a child  at my Confirmation.  I  was so nervous I had to pee so bad!  Not unusual since I was confirmed at five years old. Young? Yes, but I was  tall and my  mother wanted to spare the embarrassment of towering over my peers, so the priest gave his permission.  I took extra Catechism lessons and memorized The Apostles’ Creed and I would be led to that man with the tall pointed hat!  I  did not appreciate the slap on the cheek (The teacher forgotten to tell me about that part)

Minutes later, I  was standing in front of the beloved Mother and I  lowered my body to be embraced. Her warm hug was like that of my  grandmother’s, as if we knew each other forever and yet we were strangers…or had we once met in another lifetime?

Three days of similar rituals, meditations, warm compassionate talks and beautiful stories,  singing…so much singing and the tap tap of the Tabla drums filled the room.   On Devi Bhava, after Amma had completed all her hugs, her blessings and it was time to leave…she stood up on the stage,  looking at all her devotees for one last long endearing moment.

The vast room filled with thousands of people fell  silent…mere echoes of a far away cough, a tiny baby gurgling and Amma’s eyes on all of her devotees; was it possible to feel this pure love wash over each and everyone in that hall?

crowd falls silent
Holy Mother’s reverent gaze
beat of a heart,
echoes in the chamber of a chest
tears roll softly down a cheek

© Tournesol ’15

le temps des fêtes (haibun)

The week before Christmas was a busy time in la famille Lafleuré.  Baking of tourtières with veal and moose, maple syrup doughnuts, apple pies, sugar and pecan pies.  Pheasants were killed and cleaned for Christmas dinner.  Grandmère Lafleur was busy making toffee candy for the children Christmas Eve when they would sit around the decorated tree telling stories of Noël long ago.

Children were excited and cleaning their rooms including under the bed since they were told le Père Noël did a survey in all childrens’ bedrooms to ensure they did all their chores.

Papa Lafleur had finished cleaning  the fireplace and Christmas Eve afternoon, he went up on the roof of the house while the children were skating on the pond.  They loved watching their father clean the chimney singing old ballads from long ago.  Before coming down, he tied a long red velvet ribbon around the chimney.  Tonight was the night Santa would visit from the north Pole.

tree

C’est le temps des fêtes
les enfants crient de joie
l’arrivé du Père Noël

©Tournesol ’15

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

hearing sounds (haibun)

when I close my eyes,
brings me back in time
her voice soothes me

her voice soothes me haiga
      June 22, 1926 – Dec. 2, 2014

Snippets of her presence slip into dreams when least expected. Sometimes her shadow appears  in the most unlikely moments, and yet I know it is she…

mom

scent of Givenchy
taking in her playful laugh
visits in my dreams

parfum de Givenchy
enveloppé par son rire taquin
rendez-vous dans mes rêves

© Tournesol ’15/12/02

bracing (haibun)

Her mother was a sun worshiper and loved three seasons for the warmth of the sun; the budding flowers in spring,  summer sun turning her skin golden and the lush colours of autumn. Winter was not her favourite season.  She loved Christmas for her children and grandchildren; New Year’s Eve was a ritual to watch people celebrate at Time’s Square. No, winter was a season she could easily skip.

Every time family and friends phoned her in winter, she warned them to stay home and not drive on the slippery roads.  Winter was a time to sleep and hibernate like a bear.

Winter starts to show off in late autumn here. By mid-November there have been a few snowfalls.  That early Monday morning in December,  her daughter phoned to check up on her mother’s failing health…it was time, the nurse said.

© Clr ’14

frost tipped branches
spreading fallen leaves,
bracing for a chill

© Tournesol ’15/12/02

 

bare beauty (haibun)

 

/© Clr ’15/07/25

Summer visits on these sacred grounds, loving friends and families rest in peace.  Weeping willows adorn the gardens  among the birch and evergreens like special spices turn her grandmother’s  turkey stuffing outstanding.

© Clr'15© Clr’15

Today she visits her mother’s place of rest setting a poinsettia at the grave site.  December 2nd will be one year since she left to join her step-father. Now they rest together, resuming their love story of yesteryear.  The bare weeping willows and birch stand silent in respect for those who rest.  The sun sets as she chants her mantra softly.

© Clr'15
© Clr’15

wispy willow weeps,
autumn sheds its leaves- yet,
naked beauty

© Tournesol’15

lumière blanche (haibun)

They kneel around his bed whispering their prayers. Seven children and the youngest seventeen holding back his tears, showing a brave face.  The golden spaniel whimpers on the floor.  His wife holds ice chips to his lips.  Propped up with pillows, facecloth on his forehead, he looks at his loved ones, he smiles and sighs, “La lumière blanche…que c’est beau!”

flying deer
trailing a white light
look of wonder

look of wonder
embracing grace
heaven awaits

© Tournesol ’15/11/28

by the river (haiku)

throat singing
ice flows down the river
whistling wind

© Tournesol ’15

unfound truths (haiku)

[…] “Paradox is the life of haiku, for in each verse some particular thing is seen, and at the same time, without loss of its individuality and separateness, its distinctive difference from all other things, it is seen as a no-thing, as all things, as an all-thing.” […] (Chèvrefeuille) Carpe Diem Technical Writing – Paradox

Seeking  truths
here and everywhere
blinded by tales

~

pivotal escapes,
search for  dreams high and low
caught in realities

© Tournesol ’15/11/26