a blessing took root (Tan Renga – haibun)

(c) All about Birds
#0(c) All about Birds

 

A long time ago two teens pledged their undying love.  Coming into adulthood, they finally marry in hopes to plan a family. Year after year, still barren they prayed together by the old oak tree at the river. With prayer and faith, on their seventh  wedding anniversary their pleas were answered. Some said they had the luck of the number 7 but the woman knew all too well from where her blessing took root…down by the river bank at the old oak tree.

 

the old oak’s roots –
reach from past to future
recall last year (c) Björn Rudberg

at the old oak tree, she kneels
rubbing her belly in thanks

faint breeze
whispers through the leaves
swallows chirp

(c) Tournesol ‘15

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After the beautiful description our host gave us at Carpe Diem, I was inspired to write a bit more.  Our host describes the various symbols and meanings to the Oak tree:

“The Oak is one of the sacred Druidic three: ‘Oak, Ash & Thorn’.  In general, Oak is associated with spells for protection, strength, success and stability, healing, fertility, health, money, potency, and good luck. Oak has been considered sacred by just about every culture that has encountered the tree, but it was held in particular esteem by the Norse and Celts because of its size, longevity, and nutritious acorns. The oak is frequently associated with Gods of thunder and lightning such as Zeus, Thor, and the Lithuanian God Perkunas. This association may be due to the oak’s habit of being hit by lightening during storms. Specific oak trees have also been associated with the ‘Wild Hunt’, which is led by Herne in England and by Wodin in Germany. Oak galls, known as Serpent Eggs, were used in magical charms. Acorns gathered at night held the greatest fertility powers. The Druids and Priestesses listened to the rustling oak leaves and the wrens in the trees for divinatory messages. Burning oak leaves purifies the atmosphere. In general, oak can be used in spells for protection, strength, success and stability; the different varieties will lend their own special ‘flavor’ to the magic.”   Carpe Diem

Skies explode (haiku)

Montreal Old Port fireworks festival Dec 2014
Montreal Old Port fireworks festival Dec 2014

hands merge
twelve chimes the clock
heavens alight

twelve chimes the clock
hugs, kisses and cheers
Bonne Année

heavens alight
streams of gems fizz
revelers toast

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem

promised under the stars (haiga)

© Gallery Hip

Blades cutting,
lovers embraced skate
under the stars

lovers embraced skate
searching for the full moon
behind the clouds

under the stars
lovers make promises
beneath the Milky Way

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem

near you (haiku)

Caroline Michaud Photographie
© Caroline Michaud Photographie

breathing,
when I’m near you
quickens

when I’m near you
sun never sets
heart liquifies

quickens
my pulse and breathing
heavier.

© Tournesol ’14

Haiku Horizons “near”

frost (haiku)

silver flowers
danced intricately
on chilled panes

(c) Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem

HALLELUJAH! (haiku)

Sheer exaltation,
universality greets
love …a brief moment.

© Tournesol ’14

HALLELUJAH! Flashmob sings ‘Wana Baraka’
in a library in Valladolid

 

Hark the Herald Angels Sing (essence + shadorma)

© William Adolphe Bouguereau Song of the Angels (1881)

(an essence )
peace on earth’s everything
cheer the birth, new-born king

pure of heart, Prince of kind
plays a part with you in mind

filled with mirth, rejoicing
peace on earth’s everything.

(shadorma)
angels hail,
Prince of peace is born
cleanse your souls
open hearts
renew your vows of kindness
compassion triumphs.

© Tournesol ’14

We have the option of writing a Shadorma (a non-rhyming six-line poem with a syllable count of 3/5/3/3/7/5) – or an Essence created by Emily Romano.

An “Essence” consists of two lines of six syllables each. There is an end rhyme (rhyme at the end of the line) and an internal rhyme (rhyme in the middle of the line).

BJ Shadorma and Beyond at MindLovemiserysMenagerie

Flash mob concerts always make me weep, they’re so beautiful!

nature’s art (haiga)

(c) Clr '14
(c) Clr ’14

 

on a country road
bales of hay artfully placed
canvas of meadows

(c) Tournesol ’14

magic slippers (haibun)

They say music is one of the last things your memory loses if you are cursed with any form of dementia. I can totally see that having played “oldies” when visiting my mother. It was like she stopped at a red light, stunned, her eyes would widen and she seemed to know. Sometimes she would hum or try to sing the lyrics like one of her favourites by Judy Garland that we all know so well, Somewhere over the Rainbow.

“there’s no place like home”
clutching Toto, she taps her
ruby red slippers

© Tournesol ’14

Beat of the Heart

 

River rink (haibun)

© Jessie Botanical at Deviant Art

I remember first time I skated with my mother and sister. Mom and my sister were so darn adept on their skates…they could actually stand up witout wobbling! I must have been about four wearing dark brown leather skates that folded at the ankle, so my body rested on the leather rather than those blades.  But my mother was so patient with me…chubby me, clumsy as could be…no side boards to hand on to …just low snow banks after they had shoveled a personal skating rink just for us on the river behind GrandMaman’s house.  I must have been wearing my older cousin’s skates…boy’s skates to boot!

I later managed to stand up on better skates but wobbly I was. One night when I was about 12 the river was cleared of snow and my uncle wanted to go out skating with his girlfriend…well! I decided to tag along this romantic venture…but I did stay back several feet…it was a full moon, we skated across the river…whoosh…scratch…whoosh, whoosh…the moon was so bright we could even skate to the little inlets…I was a bit worried the ice may not be as thick but still felt safe following my uncle…my hero.  What a guy to let his niece tag along on this magical evening. I will never forget that night…whoosh, whoosh…scratch…whoosh, whoosh…wind blowing softly on my face.

children giggling
wobbling on the ice
river holds

hands clasped
lovers glide on the river
under a full moon

whoosh whoosh
blades scratch the river floor
frozen in time.

© Clr ’14 Saw this girl at Montreal Atrium today, at the bus terminal/Metro Bonaventure and could not resist…that would have been me a long time ago.

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem