Photo credits: Clr ´14
sunflower sways
billowing clouds overhead
wind chimes.
scorching night
sleeping naked on the cot
cicadas sing
© Tournesol ‘14/08/02
Submitted for: Haiku with Ha – Summer Kigo
Hot summer (Haiga)
Category: Narratives
Filled with grace (haiku)
After communicating for months with Karuna, from Living, Learning and Letting Go, we did finally meet. I was blessed to have such a seasoned devotee of Amma. She was able to describe some of the traditions, the events that would take place each day. And thanks to her wise guidance, I was able to take advantage of every moment I could of being in the presence of this amazing sage, Amma.
I had shared with Karuna, that I uarrived here with an open mind but a heavy heart. Who does not have weight on their shoulders and in their heart? Such is life, non? But being in the presence of such a powerful, wise, loving and compassionate person, one can only naturally sway from grey or dark thoughts to brighter and hopeful reflections. Four days in such divine presence and four times blessed with a warm embrace…that’s right, I had four hugs in those four days.
Within a few hours, I could feel a divine presence and the attachment everyone had to their “mother- amma”; so many people shared their stories from past encounters; people who found their true love after speaking and embracing Amma, how special they felt when she held them, how more special one felt than another…and I could not help but see us all as children in pecking order to get our “mother’s” attention…see me, Mother, see how special I am!” I could not help but smile at that thought.
Did I sleep much? Not really, for it was also the full moon on Saturday/Sunday morning so we stayed up until 6 am. I will not go into detail to describe the events for Karuna and other writers would do this justice far better than me.
I did purchase a few items, (shopper that I am…but hey! it IS for a good cause!!) I started with a lovely scarf/shawl that I wore for my first hug, so it is now blessed. I also purchased a beautiful handmade book cover, a business card holder, beaded necklace and bracelet (the bracelet is practical for reciting my mantra, which I feel privileged to have been given by Amma), a lovely purse; and the perfume bottle was to place the blessed water we were ALL given on our last day, open to the public for Devi Bhava. Now this last day starts in the early evening and goes on until the wee hours of the morning, {so I was told} well, it went on all night until noon the next day! Ending with weddings and much more. The energy was electrifying and although it was celebratory towards the end, there was a heaviness…a sadness that Amma would soon be leaving most of us that day for a long time. She will be missed…
(senryû)
in anticipation
my heart swelled and opened
filled with grace
(c) Cheryl-Lynn ’14/07/19
Hazy Day (Tanka) ~ Heeding Haiku With HA
The prompt at Heeding Haiku With HA this week is rather unique. No guidelines on nature or emotions…This week, HA would like you to analyze everything that you can at this very moment of time and write a haiku or tanka or both to commemorate these few moments of this day of your life. Write/Right NOW!
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Here is my moment described on the
Hazy Day (Tanka)
My first day back at work today and the weather was still quite hot and humidity still high. Walking slowly to the Mall to renew my bus pass, I stopped by my favourite sushi bar to say hello to Angela. We’ve become friends after only two or three visits. We are quite friendly with merchants here in Quebec especially outside the city. She and I both agreed we missed Ontario. I moved to Ontario for work for thirteen years and fell in love with it. She emigrated from Japan to Ontario and also enjoyed her experience there. We both came back to be closer to our immediate family in Quebec. I can tell she is struggling adjusting and I empathized her pain. She asked me how I was when I purchased my shrimp Spring Roll and I mentioned my disgust with our health care system here compared to Ontario and she nodded in sympathy. So few words were shared and yet I felt a connection and as she wrapped my rolls with peanut sauce, I knew my lunch was somehow blessed.
Walking to the bus terminal very slowly, I noticed my bus leaving. I can’t run anymore with my bad leg, so I just took a deep breath and told myself, “Breathe, take your time, you’ll only get all hot and sweaty.”
The next bus arrived within less then ten minutes. I took a seat near a window but no air was moving. The bus filled up and finally we were moving. A faint breeze came in but nothing to write home about.
Finally we crossed the bridge and I could feel that nice cool breeze…not cold but still it was refreshing and I noticed the woman next to me closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling. I closed my eyes and let soaked up the moment for as long as it lasted…
This is how I felt a few moments after the bus pulled out on our trip to Montreal. I scribbled these in my notebook to remember that feeling.
hot sticky bus
open windows bring relief
river breeze
eyes closed I relish the moment
puffs off the St-Lawrence
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/07/02
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General guidelines:
- English Haiku is a three-line poem structured in syllable count of 5-7-5. It visualizes an image, an expression or experience, including a season word or kigo. It is a small ode to nature.
- English Tanka is a five-line poem structured in syllable pattern of 5-7-5-7-7. The first two lines and the last two lines picture images and the third line is a pivotal line i.e. it signifies a grammatically correct meaning and completes the image either when paired with the first two lines or when paired with the last two lines.
- Most importantly, feel free and write, do not be burdened by the rules or guidelines. Enjoy crafting a haiku or tanka. And after when you have made the post, you can submit the links to your posts in the linking widget below at this link here at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie.
Harmony (haibun)
She looked up at the sky and saw only grey clouds. “Again, only grey poop on” she muttered. That’s what she thought of those grey clouds…pooping on her life, her mood, her heart and her soul. There was no longer any light in her life. She sighed, giving herself a bigger push to swing higher. “Maybe if I swing high enough, I’ll be able to kick one of those clouds and see rain that will wash away all the bleakness in this land.”
“Watch it, little one! You may fall and you sure as heck don’t want to fall way down there!!”squawked the black crow above, settling on a dried up tree…no leaves, just branches..
Elaina looked up at her friend. He had become her friend in the past year.He had given her the idea to braid long strips of cotton to hang from the twig that was her only seat outside her birdcage. She now had a swing which gave her a sense of freedom.
She had been disgusted by this huge black crow, at first when she was brought here by “him” but she realized over time, that Cornelius was a product of “his” master plan. Anyone who defied him or tried to escape only fell into the den of désespérance or Des-Spa as Cornelius jokingly called it. It was the bottomless pit that lay below…a sort of limbo but Elaina felt it was a hell created by “him”.
“I suppose you’re right, Cornelius, even if you are not a wise old owl,” she giggled and for a brief moment, the clouds separated and a hint of glow shone from the skies. Whenever Elaina sang or laughed, this occurred. But it never seemed to last more than 2 to 3 seconds.
Somehow, somewhere far above there was a positive force of goodness and beauty that was trying to communicate to Elaina. She felt it in the soles of her feet. Well, not really soles but she had been stripped of all her clothes. She had made herself a make-shift dress from the veils that covered her cage/home and with the long strips leftover, braided it as per instructions from daring Cornelius.
“He” had stripped her of her clothes but had the decency to jail her in a veiled insulated cage she could use as bedding or blanket on cooler nights. She didn’t mind sleeping without bedding. She felt less trapped this way. And Cornelius could keep her company when she was lonely and spread his wings to keep her warm on cooler nights. He always enjoyed her giggling and especially her singing in her soft soprano voice. She sounded like an angel in a celestial choir. Perhaps that is why the clouds separated briefly…maybe angels thought she was a lost sister.
Somehow she knew if she could sing long enough or the right harmony, the skies would be unlocked…finally breathe hope and compassion…she would just have to be patient.
patience unlocks skies
heavens unleash goodness
beauty of the soul.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/01
Written for MindLoveMiserysmenagerie Photo Challenge #15 – birdhouse
Killer Tree (Friday Fictioneers June 27, 2014)
Photo Prompt: © Madison Woods
Simone went berry picking with her cousin who had been after her for a week. She finally gave in. It had been the first time in five years she had ventured into these woods. Nicole was nattering about mon oncle Ovid and his eccentric ways. Simone half listened, dodging gnats and wishing she were home with a good book. Suddenly she heard Nicole call out to her. “Look there’s a pond here. Viens vite!” Simone got to the other side of the bushes and stopped suddenly noticing the tree by the pond, where she’d lost her son.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/06/27
Written for: Friday Fictioneers June 27 2014, Photo prompt
Friday Fictioneers – The Bourgeois Massacre
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright -Mary Shipman
The auction was on. People piled into the Bourgeois house out of curiosity, no one really wanted to buy a house after what had happened. It was five years ago. The city waited out of respect for their past Mayor François Bourgeois but the taxes had to be paid; the law said 18 months in arrears and a property had to be auctioned off to cover at least unpaid taxes.
A young girl was lagging behind her mother, staring at the wallpaper where the little Amelie had slept. She remembered sadly, playing Barbies here. That was before the Bourgeois Massacre.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/06/20
Written for Friday Fictioneers – Photo Prompt June 20,2014 – Fiction under 100 words.
Soil (haiga)
months of drought
scorching sun kills
the soil
~
mother earth weeps our folly
for causing global warming.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/06/19
Written for: Heeding Haiku with HA – Consider the Soil
Searching likeness (Shadorma – Tilus)
Hauntingly
seeks reconnaissance
echoing
brilliance
sun reflects on golden pond
unlike empty eyes.
Insights, comprehension
forever
gone.
In a daze
strives for some semblance
hesitates
contemplates
who is this old face who gapes?
where has time escaped?
rouses from a deep sleep
spots her, in
me.
Is this fate…
reality bites
I shall change
destiny
cast off all senility
inhale lucidness.
Embrace reflections on
this pond…see,
me.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/05/27
Submitted for: Mindlovemiserysmenagerie Shadorma Photo Prompt #9
A shadorma is composed of six non-rhyming lines (sestina or sextet) and the syllable pattern is 3-5-3-3-7-5. It can have as many stanzas as you like, just as long as each stanza follows the syllable pattern mentioned above . You have a week to create you poems so be patient and let the photo inspire you! Or use your own photograph or art work!
Tilus – the poem is divided into two parts, the first consisting of two lines of 6 – 3 syllable count. The second is composed of a single one syllable word. The goal of the tilus which must not be more than 10 syllables is to contemplate the world of nature and how it can open the door of understanding life.
Hopscotch terror
Skip, skip, hop, hop,
she turned around on one foot
threw her pebble on six
the hop, hop, hopping followed;
heard a whisper, stopped transfixed,
then a long deep moan
she stood on both feet…forlorn
little child frozen on square five
not budging, terror took over her
dared not move her head,
just her eyes from side to side,
the moan grew louder, longer
her eyes just gawked…
she turned her head swiftly
to the right and THERE she saw it
from the dark basement window
it looked like a man…an old man
with long shoulder length white hair
he looked exactly like Ebenezer!
MOAN
GROAN
BEUHHHHHHHH!
She turned her four yr old body
and stode frozen, staring, tears streaming
down her chubby cheeks….
MOAN
GROAN
BEUHHHHHHHH!
And then she hurled t
he loudest piercing yowl!
the engineer on the oncoming train
must have heard the howl.
Grandmother came running down the stairs,
grabbed her by the shoulders
to shake her back to reality
shouting at the THING at the basement window
“Stop scaring the child like that, GrandPa!!”
then hugged the child close to her bosom,
whispering, Shshshshshshshshsh.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/05/13
Submitted for: Mindlovemiserysmenagerie Prompt 55, Slowly dawning horror
Now, how come I didn’t think of that?
Now how come I didn`t think of that?
How come I don’t think of listening to my favourite on-line radio station? I am on-line so much with work, with blogging and today I realized when I am home weekends, I often write in silence. Granted, sometimes I do prefer to shut out any distractions for my thoughts are enough and if I add lyrics and melody, I get overwhelmed and cannot concentrate. It`s different at work, however. If I am writing a “story to share” or on-line counselling, I may put in my ear buds and listen to music to block out the business and voices heard on crisis call centres.
Today I was chatting with a cyber friend/writer/poet extraordinaire/blogger and sharing how I also love music and how it can impact on my mood. No surprise there, right? Look at folks who listen to music on the street, on the bus, train and Métro. You see some bobbing their heads, swaying, lip singing, moving their shoulders and walking is sort of cool too. Oh, Oh, That reminds me! Have you ever noticed when you are driving in the car especially in the city during a busy time and you are listening to funky music or rock and roll (whatever is your pleasure)? Observing the pace of some pedestrians seem to match just perfectly the beat of a song you are listening to. That is so cool! Haha, it is funny when it is a fast upbeat tune and you see some people pick up their pace to beat the light or of course if you are a Montrealer, well, we just jaywalk…sometimes quickly sometimes not so quickly. If you`re the driver being cut off by a warm body, well, you have to stop…so that may interrupt your music mood for a few seconds. Just crank up the volume and let it go and enjoy the harmony and not your inner frustration…It`s Montreal! deal with it (smiles) it is part of our culture.
I think that is something I may want to work on a bit now…patience and driving. The cyclists especially are out and in the city they usually do not think of motorists, so I need to be mindful of that and pretend I have a twin that is on her bike just as I am leaving for work in my car. Oh, yeah, and leaving a bit earlier may help to avoid that “road rage”. {Gotta work on that one!}
Back to my original question, why didn`t I think of that? Since I am so often on-line, I must remember to log on to Jango.com a free radio station that you can add ONLY your music delights, favs and no commercials. I guess I stopped a few years ago when our agency put in a firewall that blocked that site…but still, I can use it at home…and that is exactly what I am doing now as I write this post. I am listening to Phoebe Snow right now crooning Poetry Man. Now how appropriate is that, that I am ending this with this song playing? Serendipity? Coincidence? Nah, I’ll leave those questions for another question for Linda Hill`s Stream of consciousness prompts {wink wink}.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/26
“This post is part of SoCS: http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/04/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-2614/ ”
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
