She remembers sitting on the rooftop, admiring sunsets, late spring to autumn. As the temperature rises this week in our last week of February, Mother nature seems to be teasing les Québecois. She doesn’t put it passed a few restaurateurs who may set some chairs on their terraces this weekend so patrons can sip their café au lait or pint of beer inhaling the fresh air.
spring pokes its head
showers clear winter’s debris
snowbanks shrivel
Our host, Chèvrefeuille, at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, published the two winners of the Autumn Kukai last week. I have to say the winners’ masterpieces truly inspired me today. I find haiku is like an abstract painting. The artist knows what he or she is seeing and feeling at that very moment. The reader is like the admirer of the artist’s work, seeing and feeling the words painted on the canvas.
Both haiku inspired me to write. I could not help but see myself in the moment of each ku. Starting with the runner up, Sara McNulty who is a gifted poetess writing waka as well as other forms. I find her poems make you stop…and think.
steaming gold on chilled October evening mug of hot cider
Such a lovely and colourful image I see and remember coming home from school shuffling through falling leaves. The crisp air a sign of the season and walking into GrandMaman’s kitchen…
I’m reminded of November, where November 1st, All Saints’ Day seems to set the stage. Where saints are remembered and their ghosts hover over cemeteries and barren parks. Where naked trees have shed their colours and long bare arms outstretched like Jesus on the cross, weighs on our hearts. November days, damp and cold has not seen the first snow yet to soften the blow of endings.
tearful skies
November rains
say goodbye
And now, the winner’s haiku, Hamish Gunn who is a published author, storyteller and poet, writes a haiku that speaks to me. Yesterday, I wrote an entry in my personal journal on another blog and “letting go” seems to be a sign the universe is telling me in so many ways.
Any parent knows the feeling the first day you bring your child to daycare or school…that first day, that moment you see your child walk into a new setting without you and you still remember what you felt.
Of course at any stage of their lives, you remember those moments. I remember the first day my first-born went to nursery school, the first day at Kindergarten; and then my youngest at fifteen months, going to daycare for a few hours with her brother, wailing, clinging to my breast. Her brother watching over her like a big brother feeling her sorrow tries to make her smile.
tiny tot clings
mysteries of the unknown
pleading eyes well
mother’s reassuring smile
gently lets go
I could go on and on with so many life cycles with those three perfect lines, we learn/from autumn/ letting go but I will end with my mother’s passing in late autumn, on December 2nd, 2014. Typically, in Québec, we consider December winter but officially it is not until December 22nd, the shortest day of the year. So here I share a series of haiku in a form created by our host, Chèvrefeuille, called a Troiku.
mother’s last lesson
listen to leaves falling
in autumn
mother’s last lesson
teaching me
letting go
listen to leaves falling
return one last time
to Mother Earth
My best meditation, if you want to call it that, is when I am walking. I start by looking up at the blue sky and sun reflecting on the snow, adjust my sunglasses as the glare blinds my blue eyes and I walk. I start chanting my mantra 108 times and if my mind is still chattering, I chant another set. And then I am in a magical zone.
(c) Clr ‘157Amma, Mom, GrandMaman
Amma smiles at me
departed spirits appear
reassuring me
Amma smiles at me
mind swims
in harmony
departed spirits appear
a message
removing my fears
reassuring me
feeling their presence
blessing my day
Travelling long distances is something new for her. She would travel far to get to one destination only and come back. But now she travels and sometimes takes detours to get to a destination. The time to be there is vague…she tries not to depend on tight schedules. She knows somehow thy will be done. Perhaps some of her guru’s philosophy is rubbing off on her. She knows she has to learn her way and though through guidance, mantras or prayer, readings…these are simply tools to help interpret life around her….the one she was blind to.
(troiku)
walking warily
faith keeps her from falling
icy footpaths
walking warily
mindful of her goal
que sera sera
faith keeps her from falling
patience
lifetime practice
icy footpaths
more lessons to be learned
sitting or standing
She was raised with a strict Catholic upbringing. She remembers her Grand-Maman beading her rosary every night. She now rolls each bead when chanting a mantra, a gift from her guru, Divine Mother, Amma. And yet reading The Pilgrimage she finds more parallels than differences in the lessons presented compared to Amma’s wise tales teaching her devotees.
Today, as she was walking out of the Métro Rosemont, she noticed a young woman limping and her heart sank seeing her twisted foot in a heavy winter boot. Usually she would start chanting her mantra with a person in mind but for some reason as she walked out onto the street, she started reciting the Lord’s Prayer, ten Hail Mary’s and Glory Be to the Father. What made her do it felt natural…she was asking Mother Mary to help this young woman and at least give her a good day today. She had not recited these prayers in a while and she was not surprised…it felt natural and right.
She looks at the wooden rosary she brought home from her mother’s bedroom and sets aside her beads before retiring…
prayers or mantras
many different words
same Golden Rule
Tournesol dans un Jardin 