Driving along the boulevard, she noticed trees with leaves! When did they grow so fast? The rain and warm spells must have helped. And then she passed a house with cherry blossoms…she wanted to stop and take a photo but decided to keep the image more perfect in her memory. She sighed wishing she lived closer to this house and then she saw a magnolia tree! Well, now, this was a lovely drive filled with promise. These beauties could certainly tie her over until the apple blossoms expected in the next three weeks.
blossoms
all worth the wait
nature’s promise
She remembers, as a child, in June asking her grandmother when the lilacs will be ready. Such a fragrant gift to share…
nature’s promise
yet, just a hope
scents of lilacs
mid-June treasures
picked by teacher’s pet
Fleeting memories keep her in a state of grace…calm and content, such a lovely escape.
In the past few years she has been altering her way of meditating. Rather than consciously searching for a quiet place to tune out for a few minutes, writing waka (Japanese poetry) has entered her life and added to another way of musing.
Her thoughts and feelings about a day, an event and especially about nature has become welcoming moments of contemplation. It is also a wonderful way to detach from the busyness of a day and look more carefully under a few layers and truly reflect within. Nature seems to have that effect in bringing out those hidden layers and connecting with nature.
Check out her beautiful piece at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai where she writes about ‘the poet’s craft'” and creates a series of beautiful haiku and tanka. For this meme, the theme she leaves us with is to reflect on our own experiences as haiku and tanka poets.
Aw, finally spring is really here! She loves May for many reasons…budding blossoms giving hope, lilac trees burgeon and tulips reaching to the sky in so many brilliant colours. She remembers as a young child in primary school, the month of May meant she was allowed to go out on a school night. She would put on her Mary Jane’s that her mother had brought from the shoemaker. The taps had been added on the tip and heels. They said it was to prevent the wearing of the shoes. But she just loved to hear the clickety click when walking on the sidewalk to church. She would change into something pretty, bring a sweater for the walk back home and of course place her rosary in her little purse.
Clickety click, and on she went but entering the church the clicks echoed so loudly, even tip-toeing made heads turn. Old ladies with thin lips and silly hats frowned disapprovingly but there were always one or two that knew her mother or grandmaman and nodded approving her presence to recite the evening rosary to Mother Mary.
I had not read the meme properly and just realized we were to write a tan renga…since it is May 1st, I can’t help keeping the same theme as my daily thoughts.
Time seems to loiter
slowly crawling uphill
each laboured breath
wheezing to the top
mayhem starts to enter
idol pandemonium
down, down, down
spiralling carelessly
or so it seems to me
twists and turns
clutching by the sides
hurling anecdotes
of a drawn-out past
settles in the present
warning for the future
unless…
mastering these moods
feelings and obssessions
hurdles that care less
dealt once in the past
habit keeps them near
patterns that have settled
trick me into believing
how powerless am I
and yet…
given it some thought
rational and real
oh! silly do I feel
preoccupied with naught
then…
praying to the universe
chanting consciously
feeling the absurdity
lifting and disappear
now…
how I must be mindful
when time does unravel
effort downhill travel
with an intense speed
settling’s just a habit
how I do know better
and I have discovered
this long-awaited gift
spirituality and me,
chanting passionately
gently brings me back
to virtual reality
Walking through the thicket, the woman stops a moment to admire wild daisies. It is mid-day and the sun is commanding nature to acquiesce to her splendid rays. Birds perched in the shade of their home are silent as they embrace their afternoon siesta except for a few chirps from fledglings resisting their nap. And then, the concert begins…from tree to tree sopranos tell their story while another group sing the refrain…piercing sounds mesmerize and finally the last of the fledglings give in to their lullaby.
spellbound cicadas take centre stage nature listens
The woman crouches slowly, taking a picture of her subjects; she smiles at the effect the soft wind has on the flowers. It appears the daisies are waving and smiling with their golden centres boasting towards the sun. And then, she freezes…
At Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, our host and mentor, Chèvrefeuille gives us a spiritual meme where we can choose among four photographs for our inspiration. They are A young mountain monk, Laughter, Time Flies and Tranquility. The image of a clock depicting how time flies is what inspired my haibun/troibun but more than just time flies…how a split second experience can imprint forever in my mind. The blue butterfly visited me from April to November, 2015 following the death of my mother December 2014. I have never seen such a constant presence as this beauty before or after. I know, deep down, she was helping me in my grief.
I feel such laughter in my heart, imagining the daisies also chortling…like the monks in the photo our host has given us. By the time I had completed the troiku(a new form of haiku created also by Chèvrefeuille), I felt my whole being washed with a sense of tranquilty. So, I suppose I was influenced by all four photos and left with a lingering sense of wellbeing.
That time of day where words are not required…silence carries a life of its own. The homeless man whose weary feet, too heavy to continue, marks a spot to rest an hour or five. The rush hour street car groans its morning tune…his lullaby.
Heros of the night who keep watch for those where pain and suffering visit at two in the morning..nursing homes, hospitals, police stations, helplines…winding down their long day seeing flashes of their comfy bed mingled with the trauma they just witnessed. No words…just thoughts, visions…turning into a steady hum.
Stray cats seek a dry abode, giving chirping critters the eye that says it all. Birds chant their morning praise, feeling lucky to be alive… singing melodies of joy, hoping to see that worm raise its lovely head…
Bakeries and coffee shops are already ready to help mankind jump-start the day.
Mornings are such a foreign thing to her. So, this is how the other half lives …some starting their day and others winding down. She, falls in between …feels as if she is always trying to catch up…
At Friday Music we are given a beautiful Québecois song for our inspiration. The song is even more special since it is by a Québecois singer/songwriter, Alex Nevsky [formerly Alexandre Parent) from Granby, Québec which is in the Eastern Townships where I was raised. I decided to write a haibun concluded with a tanka. I have not added the English translation as the literary translation does not do the song justice.
Jeter un sort, par Alex Nevsky Cœur de pirate
Lyrics for Jeter un sort by Alex Nevsky feat. Cœur de pirate
Qu’importe le temps et les promesses
Si longtemps ce n’est que maladresse
Et j’attends de toujours ton regard
Qui se pose sur mes lèvres en retard
Qu’importe le bleu de l’océan
C’est le vide que je vois finalement
Pris ici et rien pour s’arracher
De nos coeurs si intimement liés
J’ai jeté un sort
Sans trop savoir ce qu’on deviendrait
Corps à corps on disparait
À travers l’aurevoir
Et j’ai tout donné à cette cause
Cette fois c’est assez
Laisse nous au moins partir
Laisse nous au moins vivre
Laisse moi au moins vivre
Qu’importe la beauté du pardon
Aucun n’oiseaux ne mourra si nous partons
Chacun pour soi vers les jours malheureux
Tout nous déçois, mais veux-ton vraiment mieux
Est-ce nécessaire de regarder
Loin devant soi
Pour comprendre qu’on c’est égaré
L’horizon n’est peut-être plus dans tes yeux
De précision, mais plus jamais de feux
J’ai jeté un sort
Sans trop savoir ce qu’on deviendrait
Corps à corps on disparait
À travers l’aurevoir
Et j’ai tout donné à cette cause
Cette fois c’est assez
Laisse nous au moins partir
Laisse nous au moins vivre
J’ai jeté un sort
Sans trop savoir ce qu’on deviendrait
Corps à corps on disparait
À travers l’aurevoir
Et j’ai tout donné à cette cause
Cette fois c’est assez
Laisse nous au moins partir
Laisse nous au moins vivre
Laisse moi amusions vivre
Sitting in the café, she lifted her head and rubbed her neck from writing for so long. Her eyes turned towards the fireplace. A young man was reading, with his head leaning against the ear of the armchair. She could vaguely read the title…Bonheur d’O… She wondered if this was fate…this handsome man reading one of her favourite love stories by Gabrielle Roy, Bonheur d’Occasion.
She lowered her head slightly to return to her writing and only slightly tilted her head…she was fascinated to see a man read such a romantic book and now she was curious. Was he a professor or a grad student?
Then he turned towards her direction…
plunged in liquid blues swimming in transcendence breath held a moment time’s at a standstill bliss multiplied by two
April showers seem so adorable in children’s books with poems and chants that rhyme as children skip to school. In the city, it means cleansing of streets, playgrounds and lawns. However, some may look at their back yard with dismay
It was midnight when she walked home, taking the shortcut behind the counselling centre. A cool soft mist felt good on her face. No moon to light up her path, she tread carefully, stumbling over tree trumps and fallen branches from the long winter that had finally passed. As she reached the street, she noticed the street lights were out and blackness shielded her way.
Suddenly, there was loud crack in the sky. She counted “One thousand and one, one thous…” the sky lit up telling her the lightening was fairly close. Grandmaman always said, “Si tu es en vélo ou tu as des semelles en caoutchouc l’éclair ne te touchera pas.” Well, now, who could argue with Grandmaman! For once she was happy to be wearing her Hunter boots she had just purchased. It was a frivolous expense but the money was a present for her milestone birthday.
Now the rain began to pour and she knew running would not stop her from getting soaked, so she walked at a slow pace, lifting her face to the sky letting the raindrops cleanse her weariness.
treading through darkness
allowing thoughts to simmer
draped in its safety
Faces of youths flashed in her mind, their voices expressing their pain. Sadness, confusion and hopelessness proclaiming their needs turning into a cacophony until all she could decipher was a steady rumble.
Another crack erupted from the sky and turned into an explosion of lights. Just as she was entering the Métro, she sighed…who knew?
nature takes its course
granting ever so wisely,
what we need
Like thousands of empty shells until you find a pearl of enlightenment, darkness can be your friend.
Our host, Chèvrefeuille, at 
Tournesol dans un Jardin 