I was up all night last night writing to catch up and well, my muse was ready so when she’s in the mood, I follow. Not always wise to stretch myself like that when I had only one day off this weekend.
I watched the sun rise in front of my workstation my patio faces east. The sky started its purplish hues, then turned pink and suddenly I looked up from my laptop and this big round ball of bright yellow above the horizon stared at me. I took photos but it would never do it justice what I witnessed. It looked like it was a ball of fire. It reminded me of something I remembered in religion classes, tongues of floating fire. Within minutes the sky turned misty and the sun just shied away. For about twenty minutes I witnessed this and I wonder just how many people actually did see this beautiful act of nature.
I love sunflowers, my nom de plume in French, Tournesol. Here is a Troiku created by Chèvrefeuille which is a series of haiku. To learn more about this form click here.
The thunder of the waterfall echoed in the distance. Cher looked up at the sky and noticed dark rain clouds. She would have to hurry home soon if she didn’t want to get drenched but first she was curious. She walked all the way here for an hour from the other side of the village. She heard there was a path towards a secret garden. Her great-grandmother told her about it just before she died. “Cher, go to the garden luv, you must not miss this last chance to meet true joy.” She thought her grandmother was in her moments of dementia when she said that but still…what if?
Cher was near the falls now and the booming sound of tons of water falling was impressive and a bit daunting. Should she continue, she thought to herself peaking in the little opening between the two plum trees…and then she saw…
wild flowers competing for attention bursting in colours
There were mini gardens within the largest most spectacular garden she had ever seen. Daisies, buttercups, marigolds, lilies, sunflowers and so much more. At the centre of the garden was a cherry tree and the fragrance from the blossoms were so tantalizing. There was a section beneath the tree that looked like a velvet emerald carpet it was surreal…too perfect to be grass…and yet it was with tiny clovers interspersed and part of this exquisite verdure. She sat beneath the tree, picking at clover leaves and tasting their sweetness. She lay on her back for a moment admiring the clear blue sky …funny how the clouds disappeared here, she thought. The scented cherry blossoms seemed to have a hypnotic effect on her…she closed her eyes, “Just for a few minutes, I am so tired”…not realizing she was actually sleeping on a bed of poppies. They were so minuscule and not visible to the naked human eye.
She was bathing in bubbling hot springs and suddenly soft laughter of what appeared to be children, woke her up from this wonderful dream. She looked around and saw little people the size of her thumb dressed in glitzy costumes of gold, silver and her favourite of all…azure blues. They giggled louder when they saw her raiser an eyebrow. A chipmunk sounding voice shouted, “Come along, let’s set the tea and sweets. The human is awake…quickly now!!”
It took ten little people to push a porcelain floral cup and saucer towards Cher. When she realized the tea was for her, she reached out and picked it up saving them another two “human” feet would have taken another five minutes for them. The tea was sweet like honey and fragrant like cerise noir. She felt like a queen being served by these tiny people. Could they actually be fairies, she thought. She must be dreaming.
honourable guest visiting the Cherry garden Way of Tea
She heard a melody that seemed familiar as she put her cup down. Over by the daisies, on an elevated grassy turf, a beautiful petite woman with a white silk gown sang like an angel. She must be an angel, Cher thought, Oh, my I can’t seem to get out of this dream. Gosh! I don’t want to get out of this dream!
voix mielleuse refrain d’amour et longue vie transpire doucement ~ honey tones refrain of love and long life gently trickle
Closing her eyes, she let that sweet voice wrap her in a spiritual wellness. Each note lightened her heart, made her feel refreshed… reborn.
bathed in pure positive energy born again ~ born again releasing her grip softening chi
*Tetsuya says that holding on to the bow too tightly too long only weakens the bow. I must know when it is time to soften my grip. This garden is one way to be in the moment and float on a bed of poppies…drift away from worries, work. Here I am me, beautiful and perfect in all my imperfections.
Cher left the garden feeling refreshed and revitalized; she reminded herself to come back more often and not wait until the clouds turned dark and heavy…regular visits here would be a mindful choice.
May it be an evening star Shines down upon you May it be when darkness falls Your heart will be true You walk a lonely road Oh! How far you are from home
Mornië utúlië ([Quenya:] Darkness has come) Believe and you will find your way Mornië alantië ([Quenya:] Darkness has fallen) A promise lives within you now
May it be the shadow’s call Will fly away May it be your journey on To light the day When the night is overcome You may rise to find the sun
Mornië utúlië ([Quenya:] Darkness has come) Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië ([Quenya:] Darkness has fallen) A promise lives within you now
What a pleasant surprise to see our poet, extraordinaire, filling in for Chévrefeuille today. Paloma not only writes beautiful poems, haiku and other Japanese forms, she goes into depth with each “prompt”…she truly takes her homework seriously and I have learned so much reading her creations and the added information and lovely music videos she chooses so well and that add flavour and warmth to her posts.
For today, we return to our featured poet, Fuyuko Tomita
(Note that the Japanese version is in five lines – but – as she explained to Chévrefeuille in a separate post – the English version is slightly different. She is translating her poem so as to keep the spirit of the original, more so than the structure of the original.) I love that idea! Occasionally I will compose a haiku or tanka in French or in English and feel confined when following the form when the meaning can be compromised.
Here is our interim host, Paloma’s response to this prompt:
at the bird feeder
three cardinals are squabbling –
a love triangle?
I commute to and from work on public transit and most of my thinking and composing is done walking or waiting for the Métro or the bus. I have a mini notebook I can hold in the palm of my hand and I scribble haiku when I am still standing or sitting but when I am walking, the words seem to dribble even more. I try to remember when I get to work or home but most often the thought may be there but “that verse” or “ that line” is somewhere floating and I am left waiting for my muse to conspire…she comes when she IS ready…
(tanka)
shuffling home tonight words spill recklessly her muse takes over
I close my eyes off and on today and I seem to be in a wabi-sabi mood if that makes any sense. If I let myself float to places of nothingness I feel nano seconds of peace, sometimes sadness but not a hurting sadness. A feeling of when your heart swells and forces you to take a deeper breath, a louder exhalation…a sigh of melancholy. That is my day today…pure, simple and free. I close my eyes and remember those moments nursing my children…those precious moments in the middle of the night…no distractions in those days…no cell phones, no television…no dvd’s either. Just that opportunity to look into their eyes as they look up with wonder, with loving adoration, depending so much on me for love, sustenance and nurturing…those liquid blue eyes gaze at me.
such sweetness/so long ago, I close my eyes/back in time.
I just started reading Put your Lips Together by Hamish ‘Managua’ Gunn on my day off and sleepiness seems to take over me yet my mind won’t shut off…and so I quickly transferred those intruding thoughts to my keyboard, so I could go back to nothingness and passively pass the rest of my day off.
My mind’s entranced by words I read. It’s nice to wander to nowhere lands. But soon I feel a heaviness… I am too sleepy to read … I rest my head on velvet softness. Such a quandary since I must read to stop the thoughts exhausting me. I hang onto words from a new writer’s thoughts; his thoughts are motivating and let me to travel to places I’ve never been; ah yes, I remember one that I’d been long long ago in Aberdeen. Memories flood my soul as I drift in and out of alpha waves. IlLike riding the waves; I am so light …no featherlike, the sea transports me to islands where fishing is the only means of survival.
My eyes are heavy but my mind will not sleep. STOP!! I just want the mind to dull…be rid of any thoughts for a few moments…no contemplations, please, some respite, I implore.
I love to write but writing unlocks the dam of thoughts that gush forth so strong at times I can’t decipher good from bad, hell from heaven and so I read when my eyes can stay open to escape…And travel in the minds and thoughts of other writers so easier to take those words. They do not rush in tsunamis but more like streams of honey and melted butter. Small increments at a time …tiny palatable morsels. The perfect balance to satiate a hungry reader.
A funny thing happened to me on my way home tonight. I dressed warm, ready for my usual bitter cold walk to the metro. I actually look like a burglar dressed up in black, all you can see are my nose and eyes. I still chanced the shortcut out back and there was only about 300 metres with snow drifts to get to the street. No problem. I was quite pleased with myself considering that the street was only half ploughed. The scraper had scraped right to the icy surface. The street looked like a skating rink. No kidding! If more people would have been awake at this time, for sure some might have skated and youngsters would have slid on their boots. I get to the Métro Rosemont and for the first time I see dozens of people inside the small square waiting for their busses. Yep, it is that cold! (Oh did I tell you I froze for an hour Valentine’s evening after my nice café adventure? I waited an hour in the cold for a bus to get home. I was so cold by the time I got home, my body would not get warm enough. I felt feverish and achy all over. Had to call in sick the next day (Sunday) as there was NO way in this century I was braving the cold.)
So back to tonight. I take the métro to Bonaventure and my bus is already there awaiting me (well, it feels good to think so). I get on the bus engrossed in my novel I am reading by Alice Keys, Rose (check her out at Aliceville)…up to Chapter 89 now. Gosh! One thing I do not like about e-readers is you cannot tell if you are close to the end so for the past 20+ chapters I am wondering when that will be. I will let ya’ll know about this book that has captured my attention for the past 2 days now. I am a slow reader and when I want to remember something I highlight it…and read it over. I know, weird but that is me if I read a book that someone I sort of know wrote itJ. I have been too brain dead and tired to write much lately, so I am so glad I have a novel that is keeping me absorbed.
I settle on the bus and open my Kindle again and once I get on le pont Champlain I hear a funny sound. It sounds like a phone but no one is picking up. I feel in my breast pocket of my winter coat and take my new I-phone out and yep, it was for me. I have to change that ringer to match what I had on my Samsung…a little Motown sounds I recognize…not this techno weird stuff.
A colleague tells me I forgot my home keys at the office. OH NO!! NOT AGAIN! My heart drops for a split second and then I realize I am still on the bus, I have not walked the 10 minute walk to my apartment in the cold to discover I did not have my keys and walk back again in the cold to the bus. All I had to do was sit on the warm bus that was going back to Montreal in five minutes. No problem, I tell my colleague but it would be nice if someone is off work to bring the keys to the subway near work so I don’t have to brave the cold walk again to the office. A colleague offers to drive to the Métro with her hubby who was picking her up and she would wait for me there. She has done this already once for me two years ago. Good Lord there are angels on this planet!!
So I stay on the bus, get on the Métro again. Then I see about six Montreal Police officers waiting to check the trains on the line I was taking. Shoot! They have this Miami Vice swagger when they walk, and feathered hair spiked up…nice and messy…in their camo pants and high laced boots…they have been negotiating their pension for the past year and this is one way they are protesting (dressing like this)… …like that’ll get the public respect for law enforcement. I digress…they look in each train and find no one. One police officer takes a snapshot with his phone of a tag from a gang member in my car. I didn’t dare tell him there was another tag next to me near the window…I was in a hurry to get my home keys!! Priorities now people!!
On the ride I read an email on my phone from a person who has been following me on Stigma Hurts Everyone for two years. She wrote a beautiful long letter telling me how my blog impacted on her especially a post I wrote about a homeless person entitled “Do you even see me?” Her words truly touched me how she has changed her attitude towards homelessness now and well, that truly warmed my heart to read this. I had no idea my words could have such an impact!
Then I read another email from my favourite supervisor in Toronto and friend. It is sort of a chain letter regarding an angel and G-d will do two BIG positive things for me in the next few days. As I read this I wanted to answer but didn’t have WiFi. I wanted to reply right away: G-d already did the two amazing things…my colleague who was meeting me at the Métro with my keys and this beautiful letter from a follower of my blog.
I am beaming just about now and my chest is bursting in my mom’s psychedelic housecoat (smiles).
I love days like today…not expecting anything and then being blessed with such kindness it makes me want to cry with joy.
