life
at a standstill
where am I?
life
mine and yours
planets apart
at a standstill
we gaze
different horizons
where am I
detaching
seeking the light
©Tournesol’17/07/23
Daily moments – Am I ready? (Troiku) July 23, 2017
Poetry ~ Waka
life
at a standstill
where am I?
life
mine and yours
planets apart
at a standstill
we gaze
different horizons
where am I
detaching
seeking the light
©Tournesol’17/07/23
Daily moments – Am I ready? (Troiku) July 23, 2017
Some eat raspberries and some wear them in full season like a fashion statement. She chuckles at her sense of humour trying to make fun of her summer hives. So much easier to digest when humour sweetens even the most bitter lemon.
succulent raspberries
sweet and juicy
running down her chin
succulent raspberries
filling her whole being
pink spotted legs
sweet and juicy
crunch of the seeds
stuck between her teeth
running down her chin
with a quick flick of the tongue
good to the last drop
©Tournesol`17/07/20

children giggling
straw hats in open fields
raspberry smiles
children giggling
one for the basket
and two for me
straw hats in open fields
intent concentration
hovered over bushes
raspberry smiles
a mother’s favourite perfume
sweat mixed with sweetness
©Tournesol’17
When she thinks of beach, today, memories of long ago walking along a sandy beach in Maine resurfaces. It was dusk…the tide was up, so she, her family and friends could not walk on the wet sand like they did in the afternoon. She was only eleven; he was fifteen. But they were almost the same height. He may have thought she was more mature in “that sense”.
The wind picked up as they stared out onto the ocean; they walked slightly away from the family both quiet in thought, as if they were in different worlds. She was so young and naïve, he was a romantic and a vibrant adolescent. He was so handsome, she remembers, and spoke little English. For some reason, his words in French were so poetic.
high tide waves
impressive yet cold
bare foot in the sand
high tide waves
bold and calculating
startling splash rouses
impressive yet cold
warmth of his hand rubs gently
on innocent hand
bare foot in the sand
watching life go by in the sea
dreaming different tales
She remembers the softness of his the back of hand gently stoking her hand. It felt so natural like holding hands with her sister or her best friend…comforting, endearing. Thinking about this in her tent that night, she wondered if he felt something different than she…after all he was so much older than she. That summer of 1963 where innocence is still a nice safe place to be.
©Tournesol’17/07/19
Written for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai : Beach
time wasted
churning old and spent
living in your head
time wasted
ten and one different ways
blaming
churning old and spent
no matter how hard you try
same old, same old
living in your head
illusory journeys
your wonderland
©Tournesol’17/07/19
“Today, I visualize myself at peace.”
Misperceptions, misinterpretations and seeing what is not there can lead to confusion and inner turmoil. Listening and being led to the chaos mindsets of others is harmful to inner growth. It feels like living in limbo and never finding an outlet.
Today she is trying to visualize herself at peace. Closing her eyes, she chants her mantra and meditates…
jolt of white light
stir her innards
tranquil repose
©Tournesol’17/07/18
Suzanne has asked us to write about the Road to the Holy Grail, and quotes from “Reflections on the Art of Living” edited by Diane K Osbon:
“What the Holy Grail symbolizes is the highest spiritual fulfillment of a human life. Each life has some kind of high fulfillment, and each has its own gift from the Grail… It has to do with overcoming the same temptations that the Buddha overcame; of attachment to this, that or the other life detail that has pulled you off course… In the Grail legends, the land of people doing what they think they ought to do or have to do is the wasteland.”
I am not sure if I have interpreted this well but have tried interpreting a journey to engulfment.
***
So much time seems to be wasted when we all seem to think that time is plentiful. Is it? Really? In the past decade, she has returned to her path of spirituality. Usually strife and hopelessness draws her there and in time, she feels at peace. She is astounded at how often she rereads a passage of wisdom and spiritual growth twenty to thirty years later as if it were the very first time. What does that mean?
There are times when she was in her early twenty’s she may have digested words intellectually rather than emotionally. That is the only answer that makes sense to her. Life happens and too many times attachment to things and persons cloud our vision but the path is always there, waiting, forgiving and embracing.
Nothing can be rushed…it is not like spring cleaning with a power wash but letting yourself go and be. Emptying your mind and allowing to be filled with light.
meditating
visions of white doves
inviting her home
©Tournesol`17
For those who know me, also know my late mother’s name is dove in French, Colombe.

From On the Road, Suzanne has chosen the following quote to inspire us to write in our favoured waka form.
“As we turn every corner of the Narrow Road to the Deep North, we sometimes stand up unawares to applaud and we sometimes fall flat to resist the agonizing pains we feel in the depths of our hearts. There are also times when we feel like taking to the roads ourselves, seizing the raincoat lying near by, or times when we feel like sitting down till our legs take root, enjoying the scene we picture before our eyes.” – Soruyo
Thinking back when her children were little and stress had a way of creeping into the household. So often she would pack up a blanket, a healthy lunch and off they walked (her son biked) and she pushed the stroller for the younger one to the fort by the rapids. It was a mile to get there or 1.6km and if the children had behaved, they would walk to the wading pool half a mile away and maybe get a sundae at MacDonald’s across the street. The road taken then was to “stay above float” and it happened to make everyone content.
Sometimes, at the end of the day when the children’s father returned from work, they would plan a family bike outing, but before, she would take a “mommy run” to check on her bike she would say. What she actually did was ride very fast, wind blowing in her face, removing the “dust of her day” and by the time she was by the rapids, she was cleansed and became a person. She was not a mother, a wife, a daughter, a woman, a friend, a volunteer, a counsellor…she was one simple person.
roar of the rapids
inhaling every woe
announcing hope
water splashing at her feet
droplets giggle with joy
Once the stress of the day had dissipated into the current, washed away and moving on to the basin of the river, she felt lighter. Her shoulders rose naturally and she sat with her spine straight without a thought in the world…no dreams were necessary…
rolling white caps
just sitting – not wanting
contentment infused
©Tournesol ’17/07/18
early morning rise
shuffling to make coffee
crunch of a cockroach
early morning rise
even spiders feel lazy
in the heat
shuffling to make coffee
grinding dark roasted beans
startles a cockroach
crunch of a cockroach
cutting through the morning haze
a piercing scream
©Tournesol’17/07/17
This troiku, which is a new form of haiku created by Chevrefeuille was written for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, with the summer kigo “cockroach”

in the twilight
cloud of mist rises
soft moans through the night
in the twilight
swallows nestle for the night
cicadas hum
cloud of mist rises
forming ghostly shapes
over the river
soft moans through the night
golden glow of moonbeams
tangled limbs glisten
©Tournesol’17/06/17
At Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, we are inspired by Jane Reichold’s haiku using the summer kigo word “twiling”. Her verses as well as our host’s are absolutely stunning and any one an inspsiration to write. You can also start your haiku with “in the twilight” which I chose to do to write my Troiku, which is a new form of haiku created by Chévrefeuille.