beginnings (troiku)

 

Birth and death, to me, are more similar than different. That first moment you learn you are going to have a child, you go through many emotions. You are shocked or surprised; you are in denial until you accept the fact you are, if you are someone who had not planned this and perhaps inadequately prepared at this time in your life, be it at 12, 16 or 20 years old, for example. You may be bargaining with your higher power or yourself that it could be a miscalculation or you may be a woman who has been trying to have a child for years. Maybe you do not want to believe it in case there is an error and you will be grieving a loss of that hope once again. You may even feel anger or guilt or both if it is consequences of a rape, a party gone bad, a foolish mistake…take your pick. Even if the pregnancy is planned, there are moments of sadness, of saying goodbye to the life as you knew it, the freedom and the fear of having an innocent being dependent on you for the next two decades or more. Every life transformation starts with saying goodbye to your past before hello to that new beginning.

Acceptance can be anytime throughout the gestation period or once that baby is born. And that very day you know that you are treading on unknown territory even if you are happy. That first child, the awkwardness and fear of not getting it right is ever-present. The apprehension mixed with the acceptance of this reality come together ….your new beginning.

I cannot help thinking as I am grieving my mother today, hours before that time she passed, relating death to birth or a new beginning. I am reliving each moment I was by her side that morning, afternoon, night. Even if I knew she was frail and consumed with dementia, the death…that total loss was a new sense of aching emptiness. It was shocking in the sense I had no idea I could feel this much loss at first.

As I sit here hours before her death a year ago, I cannot help but playback moments of that long day. I couldn’t go to work today…called in sick as I knew I would be of no service to youths or young adults in crisis…my soul was tired and my heart too fragile. I thought it would be the day of her passing I would feel this intense loss and need to revisit those last hours we shared together in love… symbiosis.

When I think of the time of her death being just minutes after midnight, it would make sense to be mindful of the day before. My mother would also retell me every year hours leading up to my birth which was minutes after midnight as well.

Thinking back on the births of my two children, I cannot help but be reminded of the day before they were born because those were the preparation hours, things we did not quite realizing when those babies would peak their little faces to the light and out of that warmth.

Every year I relive those moments before my children were born as I do for my grandson being present then as well.

Holding my newborn son years ago, I remember wondering (even if I was happy and had been waiting years to have this first child) how I will cope in this new beginning. Will I manage? Will I be good enough? What is ahead now is new territory I had never experienced before firsthand.

© Clr'15
© Clr’15

When you lose someone you love deeply, as I am feeling with my mother, I feel somewhat similar feelings…that awkwardness, self-doubt on how I will manage through the rest of my life without her. Not being able to phone her, visit her, tell her how much I love her…thank her for loving me and giving me so much all her life. No, this is new terrain at any age.   It is a new beginning of a life motherless, fatherless as well…a new experience as the next generation to pass on and see myself in that new role.

As I think of birth and death, the same exercise goes on in my mind…reliving those hours before that first cry, that last gasp.

(troiku)

Birth and death
time before a milestone
engraved forever

birth and death
ground breaking
both preludes

time before a milestone
unfamiliar ground
flashing by

engraved forever
first or last
intense synergy

© Tournesol ‘15/12/01

Haiku Horizons “ground”

hearing sounds (haibun)

when I close my eyes,
brings me back in time
her voice soothes me

her voice soothes me haiga
      June 22, 1926 – Dec. 2, 2014

Snippets of her presence slip into dreams when least expected. Sometimes her shadow appears  in the most unlikely moments, and yet I know it is she…

mom

scent of Givenchy
taking in her playful laugh
visits in my dreams

parfum de Givenchy
enveloppé par son rire taquin
rendez-vous dans mes rêves

© Tournesol ’15/12/02

breaking ground (solo no renga)

pulling weeds
knees kiss the ground
beneath the cedars

scent of life on my fingers
planting seeds row on row

 day after day
like a  mother in wait,
shoots breaking ground

© Tournesol ‘15/12/01

¸Haiku Horizons “ground”

winterizing (troiku)

© Cheryl-Lynn R. '15
© Cheryl-Lynn R. ’15

(troika)

trees shedding tippets
crackling spread underfoot
adorn the ground

trees shedding tippets
turning in
season’s long sleep

crackling spread underfoot
awaits winter’s white blanket
foliaged berth

adorn the ground
making way for winter,
different shades of brown

© Tournesol ’15

Haiku Horizons prompt “ground”

by the river (haiku)

throat singing
ice flows down the river
whistling wind

© Tournesol ’15

unfound truths (haiku)

[…] “Paradox is the life of haiku, for in each verse some particular thing is seen, and at the same time, without loss of its individuality and separateness, its distinctive difference from all other things, it is seen as a no-thing, as all things, as an all-thing.” […] (Chèvrefeuille) Carpe Diem Technical Writing – Paradox

Seeking  truths
here and everywhere
blinded by tales

~

pivotal escapes,
search for  dreams high and low
caught in realities

© Tournesol ’15/11/26

Beaver Full Moon (Haibun)

img_4377
© Clr’15/11/24 Beaver Full Moon

 

 

Walking home late a night one would think she should be frightened.  But not tonight with the light of that bright moon.  The moon was almost full under a clear sky.   Tomorrow it will a perfect circle but she didn’t take a chance. “What if it rains? What if the sky is filled with snow clouds?”  No, she would not take a chance and tries to capture the greatness of this moon.  The air is cooler than the past few weeks and it smells  like snow should be coming very soon. Yes, at minus 4C the next precipitations would surely snow.

She removes her leather gloves to manipulate her smart phone to take the photo.  It is nippy and she can see her breath blow white smoke.   On this long dark street filled with old warehouses of the 1940’s slowly transforming into funky lofts.

November full moon was called Full Beaver Moon or Full Frost Moon since it was a time when Native Americans would set  their traps before the swamps froze. (Farmer’s Almanac)

Click…and off she continues on her journey home.  Seconds before arriving, she notices her shadow in front of her was a fatter version of her, to her right was a paler shorter shadow and to her left a tall stretched out version of her. No, she has no reason to be scared on her walks home…she definitely has plenty of company.

 

Setting up traps
before water freezes over
Beaver Full Moon

Beaver Full Moon
accompanies her home
lights up her path

© Tournesol’15/11/24

Beethoven-Moonlight Sonata (Mvt. 1)

That first snowflake (haibun)

Inspired by Ese’s haiku as well as her beautiful introduction of who she is, a haiku poetess. Here is a description she shared about herself:

I BELIEVE

that every journey begins with a single step, laughter really is contagious and family isn’t a word but a sentence;
that there are no better antiques than old friends;
in a difficult climb to earn the view from the top of the mountain;
that when I am good I am very good, but somehow I seem to be better when I am bad;
in „The God Of Small Things”, „The Kite Runner” , „My Poor Marat” and „The Prophet” as much as I believe in „The Little Prince”;
in coffee, green tea, caramel ice-cream and crème brûlée;
in Indian summer, winter twilight and pouring rain;
that rugby is like war – easy to start, difficult to stop and impossible to forget;
in music of different forms, colors, tongues and rhythms;
that it takes two to tango…

I am a Believer.

I think our days would be more meaningful if everyone believed in something. Either yourself, a flight to the Moon or simply tomorrow. Viva La Vida!

Such wonderful words, such a wonderful poem … that’s who Ese is … a Believer …

After closing her WP weblog she started a new weblog on Tumblr (also called “Ese’s Voice”) and that’s the place where she often posts new haiku or re-blogs haiku from other wonderful haiku poets.

Here is her haiku that has inspired my haibun:

inevitable
the dance of a falling leaf
with a snowflake

© Ese

*****************

 

The first snowfall allows everyone to become a child again. And why not? As a child, you don’t worry about slippery roads or traffic jams.  A child sees that moment…feeling it, smelling it and hearing it.  Yes, one does hear the snow fall. Just listen carefully in the nighttime when all is totally still and sounds of the weight of all those snowflakes falling…not tinkles like that of rain but sounds of ten thousands marching ants …an ever so faint echo.

A child can close her eyes and imagines skating on a pond, under a clear sky; she’s a ballerina on ice. She dreams she is fast, strong yet elegant. Snow falls gently on the pond but not enough to hide the lines cut on the surface of the ice from the sharp blades of her skates, as she dances on the ice and pirouettes like une danseuse of the Nutcracker Prince.

that first snowflake
like a child, she squeals with joy
melts on her tongue

melts on her tongue
inevitably, another snowflake
on her nose

© Tournesol ’15/11/24

baies de genévrier (juniper berries)

gibier d’automne
recettes de Grandmaman, 
baies de genévrier

baies de genévrier
assurent une meilleure digestion,
une bonne haleine

 une bonne haleine
les baies de genévrier dotent
des bisous sensuels

des bisous sensuels –
s’effondre dans ses bras
quel long soupir!

© Tournesol’15

(translation)

autumn wild game
Grandmother’s recipes
juniper berries

juniper berries
insure better digestion
freshens breath

freshens breath
juniper berries rouse
sultry kisses

sultry kisses,
collapses in his arms
that long sigh

© Tournesol ’15

First day of spring (haibun)

The prompt last Wednesday is a lovely narrative of spring and why our host, Chèvrefeuille loves this season. I, too, love this time year, filled with fresh new beginnings. The promise of life, rebirth, flowers blossoming, birds nestling and nature finally coming alive after a long peaceful rest.

Our host wrote this haibun on the first day of spring. There is still snow on the ground here in Québec, end of March with a few risks of snow storms. What gives one hope is seeing those tulip bulbs that were planted in the fall, burgeoning in March and April. Well, unless of course a rabbit or squirrel munched on the bulbs during the winter. One must plant double the amount to make sure a floral harvest. My favourites are red tulips.

one tulip stretches
budding red peaks through white quilts
first day of spring

first day of spring
sleeping beauty awakens
blushing promise

© Tournesol’15