Seven days before Christmas

© Clr '15
© Clr ’15

Seven days before Christmas #1 “fresh snow”

downy coverlet
swaddling nature’s crib
glistens in the night

Seven days before Christmas #2 “silent Night

eyelids quiver
toss and turn ’til morning
dreaming of reindeer
~
singing in the night
herald the newborn King
Silent Night

Seven days before Christmas #3 “decorations

popcorn garlands
cinnamon and eggnog
Christmas long ago
~
scent of pine cones
tinsel and candy canes
holiday’s  hope chest

Seven Days Before Christmas 2015 #4 presents

As young children, they started their list after Halloween. Mother would eavesdrop on their conversations of hopes and wishes. Watching her children stare at toy commercials, she’d revise the list over and over. Finally they posted each their list on the fridge door, checking it every day trying not to pout and do everything right.

On Christmas Eve, they set a plate of carrots and lettuce for Santa’s reindeer by the patio door and cookies for Santa with a glass a milk. The night before Christmas, they were tucked in early, promising to not get up even if they heard bells jingle, thumping in the living room or any long baritone mirth. The rule was to wait after the sun was up and tip toe carefully in the living room, if there was a late delivery. If they even saw a shadow of a burly man in a red suit, they were to dash back into their beds under the covers.

Since excitement made them rise early,  the children were given permission to look at their Christmas stockings but wait for Mommy and Daddy before opening any other presents Santa  left under the tree.

candy canes and mints
children’s Christmas kisses
sweetest treats

Mother would wake up, lying in bed and smile, listening to the children whispering exclamations on their new finds; then they’d tiptoe in the bedroom wishing their parents a Merry Christmas and pleading to get up so they could open their presents.

gift of love
open hearts, compassion reigns
the newborn King

Seven days before Christmas #5 Peace

(Troiku)

heavenly feast
at the altar
midnight mass

heavenly feast
fills each soul with grace
fit for a King

at the altar
nativity scene glows
babe in a manger

midnight mass
children’s choir sing with joy
divine child is born

© Tournesol ’15-12-23

Il est né le divin enfant (heavenly child is born)

Chorus: Il est ne, le divin Enfant, Jouez, hautbois, resonnez, musettes; Il est ne, le divin Enfant; Chantons tous son avenement!

1. Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous le promettaient les Prophetes;
Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous attendions cet heureux temps. Chorus

2. Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant,
Que ses graces sont parfaites!
Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant,
Qu’il est doux le divin Enfant! Chorus

3. Une etable est son logement,
Un peu de paille, sa couchette,
Une etable est son logement,
Pour un Dieu, quel abaissement! Chorus

4. O Jesus! O Roi tout puissant!
Tout petit enfant que vous etes,
O Jesus! O Roi tout puissant!
Regnez sur nous entierement! Chorus

Translation:

Refrain He is born, the Heav’nly Child, Oboes play; set bagpipes sounding He is born, the Heav’nly Child. Let all sing his nativity.

1. ‘Tis four thousand years and more,
Prophets have foretold His coming,
‘Tis four thousand years and more,
Have we waited this happy hour. Refrain

2. Ah, how lovely, Ah, how fair,
What perfection is his graces,
Ah, how lovely, Ah, how fair.
Child divine, so gentle there. Refrain

3. In a stable lodged is he,
Straw is all he has for cradle.
In a stable lodged is he,
Oh how great humility! Refrain

4. Jesus Lord, O King with power,
Though a little babe you come here,
Jesus Lord, O King with power,
Rule o’er us from this glad hour. Refrain

(source : http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas….)

More haiku on Peace

peace of mind
snow covered highways
last guests – home safe

last guest – home safe
bearing gift of mirth
contented souls

~
rain slick highways
cloud mists from the sky
showering peace

Seven days before Christmas #6 Mistletoe

Her parents had given her that first record player. It looked like an old portable typewriter case. How she loved it, carrying it over to her friends for sleepovers. She remembers her godmother giving her the single record, by Teresa Brewer. She played it so often, it skipped.

under the mistletoe
a smile is planted on her lips,
dreams of her first kiss

© Tournesol ‘15/12/23

TERESA BREWER – I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS

Seven days before Christmas #7 “Meditation”

Christmas Eve (haibun)

Something nudged me so early in the morning. It was pitch black outside and my mind was in a fog.  I looked at the time and wondered why I was so wide awake at 5:45 am, since I’d been sleeping barely three hours. Well now, I thought, lying in bed trying to get back to my dream that was a bit of a mystery. Lots of running around like cat and mouse. Must be the detective flics I had been watching on Law & Order again.  But sleep would not greet me and I realized then, it must be the spirit that was excited like a child. Things to do still on this Christmas Eve morning.

A bit of shopping and cooking today and Christmas dinner tomorrow with the most important people in my life, my children and grandchildren.  Then I will be working a night shift at midnight; our manager invited us all to come in to work in our PJ’s…yes, that is another item I need to pick up…something funny and outrageous!

When I think about it,  a whole 24 hours will be spent in love and compassion…the first half with my children  and the second half,at our youth line with amazing caring colleagues.

It’s a privilege for me to take those calls…a window opens on holidays like this where I get to enter the world of other families who, for some, may be struggling this holiday season. Many youths wishing the two weeks off were over already so they can get some sense of normalcy in school with their friends.  Time off can be entering a festive time, family and friends celebrating, holiday cheer; it can also be walking on a mine field trying to avoid explosions and turmoil.  So yes, I feel privileged to be there.

The grey skies are an exception this time of year and I noticed at the Métro,  these past few days there are less homeless people seeking warmth in the subways.  The warmer weather is certainly a blessing to many who normally are out in the cold as we sit in the comfort of our homes with family and friends.

shimmering light
spirit of compassion glows,
hearts blossom

© Tournesol ’15/12/24

unusual encounter (haibun)

Last year a few days before Christmas something inexplicable happened. It had been only a few weeks since her mother passed; suddenly, the coffee maker turned on by itself in the middle of the night. She sat straight on the antique wooden chair in the kitchen,  and then, she felt cold air approaching her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain as still as possible and that is when she felt a wave of love pass through her whole being. Never had she experienced such a feeling.

mystical meeting
mother’s love touched her soul
swathed in downy peace

© Tournesol ’15/12/23

Carpe Diem: Seven days before Christmas #5 Peace

her name was Colombe (tanka)

peace-day
Credits: Peace Day

afternoon stroll
watching pigeons on the beach
white dove leads the pack
feels at home with her colombe
peace washes over her.

© Tournesol ’15/12/22

CPHK – Seven days of Christmas #5 “peace”

Colombe is the name of my mother.

December rain (haibun – daily moments)

If it weren’t for seeing parking lots packed at shopping malls, people carrying shopping bags along with their briefcase on their way home, you would never think it was two days before Christmas. The Christmas cheer is floating in the air despite the rain and lack of white powder on the ground. It just does not feel right!

December rains
colours nature grey
chasing snow angels

© Tournesol ’15/12/22

captive audience (haubun captive audience (haibun – daily moments)

She entered the Métro station and was bombarded by  a mob of holiday shoppers marching towards her. It was obvious these were not regular travelers fortunately, as their their stride was casual and relaxed, flexible to sidestep and allow her to pass.  The last Sunday before Christmas and this was another reason she wished dhe did not have to work today.

Panhandlers and homeless persons  may have been relieved having a more captive audience, not immune to their plight as were many regular daily commuters.

(c) Clr ’15 Métro Bonaventure

buyer’s remorse,
consumed with Christmas lists
clink in a tin cup

© Tournesol’15

perception (haibun)

Today, I woke up looking out the window at the rain; 9 C on December 17th is so rare.  I thought to myself, “Why wait for New Year’s resolutions?” and thought of a haiku at that moment.  Why not write a haiku (or more) a day when the thought pops up in my mind?  Sure I write sometimes three or four posts a day with prompts…but why not go back to basics?  The  reason I started all of my blogs…to journal thoughts of the day and now that I enjoy haiku so much, why not put that moment in a haiku every day?

wpid-2014-06-12-13.16.59.png.png
© clr 2014

wakes up to the rain
looks out at that sky of gloom
crawls back into bed

I have to admit that the rain looked bleak from the inside, but once I walked to work, dressed in my hooded raincoat, I felt pretty darn good.  Isn’t it amazing how life offers you wonderful opportunities to take another look?

two sides of a coin
perception
makes or breaks

looks out the window
lamenting skies
one-sided view

raindrops 
sparkles of joy
nature’s gems

© Tournesol ‘15

Mountain peak (troiku)

(troiku)

cherry blossoms
tender petals weep
like snowflakes

cheery blossoms reel
sighs of a woman
peaked

tender petals weep
whisper with the wind,
teardrops on ivory

like snowflakes
on tender cheeks
blush

© Tournesol ’15

treasures (haiku)

hidden treasures
at the bottom of the sea
on a string of pearls

© Tournesol’15

le temps des fêtes (haibun)

The week before Christmas was a busy time in la famille Lafleuré.  Baking of tourtières with veal and moose, maple syrup doughnuts, apple pies, sugar and pecan pies.  Pheasants were killed and cleaned for Christmas dinner.  Grandmère Lafleur was busy making toffee candy for the children Christmas Eve when they would sit around the decorated tree telling stories of Noël long ago.

Children were excited and cleaning their rooms including under the bed since they were told le Père Noël did a survey in all childrens’ bedrooms to ensure they did all their chores.

Papa Lafleur had finished cleaning  the fireplace and Christmas Eve afternoon, he went up on the roof of the house while the children were skating on the pond.  They loved watching their father clean the chimney singing old ballads from long ago.  Before coming down, he tied a long red velvet ribbon around the chimney.  Tonight was the night Santa would visit from the north Pole.

tree

C’est le temps des fêtes
les enfants crient de joie
l’arrivé du Père Noël

©Tournesol ’15

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

melancholy (haibun)

This is a time of year a virus peaks its ugly head around mid-November.  It  spreads a virus to those most vulnerable. You may not “catch” it at the same time; you may not catch it every year and yet, there does not seem to be guaranteed antibiotic to cure its infective powers.

September days start waning as the sun sets sooner; October days rob you of nature’s dinner’s sweetest and most potent “digestif”.  November drops its veil of hoary matter and thickens day after day, week after week hiding nature’s Monet, slowly slipping into Picasso’s  Blue period.   Nights are longer than days and symptoms of this virus multiply

Humans are deprived of nature’s nutrient feeding brains with hope and cheer. Life, death, separation and loss blend.  Waiting, as it stings open wounds and those who’ve barely healed  are reminded  of life’s demises.

Children as well as adults struggle through these muddy paths sucked into the windstorm of grief and loss adjusting  to season’s changes in the depths of their heart and soul.

Staring out her window, faithful cat by her side,  cloves comes to mind. That dark bud stares at her, hard and bitter scents bleed into her soul, remembering  Grandmaman in the kitchen adding spices to the turkey dressing.  A portion of sage, pepper, salt and savory, are measured in the palm of her hand.  She smiles when asked the portions as she adds just a pinch of cloves.  Only she had the antidote that lifts the greyness of the soul and makes the heart beat anew.

clove
http://www.webindia123.com/garden/herb_spi/clove.jpg

Mother’s spice of life
unopened flower buds
cloves of promise

© Tournesol’15

The prompt at Linda Hill’s Friday reminder for Stream of Conciousness Saturday is “clo”

 

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