Whenever she feels mystical shifts in her mind’s eye she simply allows images to tell their own story.Dusting off old narratives, a surge of waves of old and new dance together playing “catch-me-if-can” until they marry and lock onto a fresh canvas waiting for the artist’s inspiration…
thoughts linger
draped in cobwebs
quieting the mind
thoughts linger
weightless joy
makes her smile
draped in cobwebs
secrets of the night
lie in wait
quieting the mind
rhythmic waves
reaching nirvana
~
Aw the mind! offers such sweet passages to explore
I had started to research and drafted a post for this prompt but that was two days ago and pfffft, I lost it all. Returning to the drawing board, I found a poem by Issa Kobayashi who I truly love his work. His last line in haiku often end with a nice surprise and sometimes with a bit of humour. I am sharing some of his bio here that I found at the Poetry Foundation:
”
Kobayashi Issa
1763–1828
Japanese poet Kobayashi Issa, also known as Kobayashi Yataro and Kobayashi Nobuyuki, was born in Kashiwabara, Shinanao province. He eventually took the pen name Issa, which means “cup of tea” or, according to poet Robert Hass, “a single bubble in steeping tea.”
Issa’s father was a farmer. His mother died when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother. His father remarried, and Issa did not get along well with his stepmother or stepbrother, eventually becoming involved in disputes over his father’s property. When Issa was 14, he left home to study haiku in Edo. He spent years traveling and working until returning to Kashiwabara in the early 1810s. In Kashiwabara, his life was marked by sorrow— the death of his first wife and three children, an unsuccessful second marriage, the burning down of his house, and a third marriage.
Issa’s haiku are as attentive to the small creatures of the world—mosquitoes, bats, cats—as they are tinged with sorrow and an awareness of the nuances of human behavior. In addition to haiku, Issa wrote pieces that intertwined prose and poetry, including Journal of My Father’s Last Days and The Year of My Life.”
The moon in August is sometimes called the Corn Moon or Cold Moon. Now this time of year when referring to the full moon, however, in Japan, they are referring to the autumn moon or harvest moon which I prefer to write about in September. I am really not ready to write that much about autumn…yet.
I remember travelling by car or by bus marveling at the full moon. It is sometimes on my left side and then my right side depending where I am driving and how many twists and curves I have taken. But when I am driving home alone late at night, somehow I don’t feel so alone. It is almost a sordid affair…like the man on the moon is keeping me company and only he and I exist until I get home.
Sometimes I get up in the morning and I am dazed, with dreams still lingering in my mind. Those first few seconds where I ask myself, “Um, what day is it? Where am I?” and slowly I come back to my real mundane world.
This morning was like that and as the day progressed, it changed from satisfying and calm to frustrating and chaotic. Now, all of this was going on in MY mind! Personal situations started bubbling. Then, you know when you day is going smoothly and then you ask for something out of the ordinary to someone yet, simple in a logical world would be a no brainer. Well, we do not always live in a logical world, now do we? Everyone has their own thing, their own moods, their own triggers and their own perceptions and ideas of logical.
The longer it takes to get a response to my request, the more I regress to that snot faced toddler stomping his feet…yep, that is pretty much how I felt. Part of me was silly and childish and another part of me was logical trying to make sense in a less than logical environment. Now mind you, this was still all going on in my mind again…good thing no one saw the scenarios in my mind’s eye!!
Well, my blood pressure surely went up a notch or two and that can be dangerous with a seasoned person like me but now I am calmer. Things are sorted out and I have grown out of my toddler’s shorts and I’m all “growed up now!”
inhaling a new day
golden glow on blue canvas
life can be like that
dark clouds loom mid-day
bright moods turn to gloom
life can be like that
day’s end takes a turn
orange and magenta skies
life can be like that
Bits and pieces of the dream comes to mind. Two men and a woman open act one and towards the last act, after many exchanges and events, two women and one man bow for their performance.
A very illogical dream comprising of penises and vaginas…yes, I kid you not!! Absurd as it may seem. I kept coming in and out of sleep but would get back into the action of things each time. There was talk about operations, if I remember some dialogues in the dream. At the end I was shocked to see that there were now 2 women and one man. “Aww,” I thought to myself, “I guess that was the talk about penises…one was removed and a vagina put in place.” What a weird dream!
moving pictures in the shrine of her mind roll in endless loops bizarre performances all night long
blue butterflies even cicada are silent divine messengers
My readers may remember my sharing, the spring, summer and fall after my mother passed, I kept seeing blue butterflies from May to early November. For some reason, I felt she was hanging around for a while until I was ready. I kept looking for those blue butterflies last year and this year but to no avail until this afternoon.
Walking home I took a different path and I was rewarded for my choice. Grasshoppers jumped at my feet before moving on to the grassland; bees absorbed solely by sweet nectar and so many to choose from! And then I saw one, two and so many more for the first time in two years…
if blue butterflies
even the cicada would silence
could only sing
if blue butterflies
were really messengers
living in heaven
even the cicada would silence
cardinal croons cheerfully
mid-day serenade
living in heaven
once in perfect harmony
demons and angels
Tournesol dans un Jardin 