Imagine your own private film on a bus, Métro, jet plane, train or ferry boat.
She used to be addicted to reading mostly mystery thrillers, to the point of binging on two to three a week on average…so yes, sometimes there were more. It was the one thing she could do to shut off her mind and slip away into another’s person’s world. I was sitting in my private cinema viewing my personal film.
This craving subsided eventually three years ago when she rediscovered writing and blogging.
riveting tales
sinks into a comfy couch
mystery binge
She decided to walk to her voting station today rather than take a bus. The sky was such a vibrant blue, so intense and the midday sun added softness. It was chilly at 6 degrees C but dressed in layers, a good scarf, her comfy Doc Martens and sunglasses she was in her own world. Now and then she would pear over her glasses to see the real colour of the sky because through her glasses is was dark blue turquoise. That reminded her when she went to St-Marten…thoughts that rose the temperature slightly, or was it the brisk speed of her walk?
Checking the time, she knew she had time to walk the 30 minute walk and hopefully there would not be a line up at the polls giving her time to catch the bus to get to work. She had to stop a moment to take photos of the fallen leaves. She was kicking herself for not leaving earlier to walk slower to take in the beautiful autumn colours; suddenly her boots crunched on a red carpet laid out just for her. It felt like a festival of remembrance.
peeling arms,
tokens of burning passions
summer’s past
A description of the surroundings when Basho experienced this moment, by the old pond were Japanese yellow roses (yamabuki) growing around the pond. Here is my rewrite.
music feeds the soul and moves the body instigating spells on her existence rhythm and blues sink into her essence that’s when she got a taste of true freedom
searching in all the wrong places for release
it’s always been there, free for the taking
cannot be purchased in stores or on-line music feeds the soul and moves the body
she was in limbo for too many years
fighting urges to act impulsively
until she explored deep into her soul instigating spells on her existence
she found herself one lonely afternoon
taking out her old turntable she played
Stevie Wonder and Smokey Robinson rhythm and blues sink into her essence
it felt like being possessed by these tunes
her body moved mindlessly and freely
swayed to Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing that’s when she got a taste of true freedom
A Cascade reminds me a bit of a Troiku, so I also added the sense of “freedom” one gets from dancing to being midst nature and all its beauty with a Troiku.
(Haibun – troiku)
(c) Clr’15
Nature offers such freedom that dance does liberating the soul, reacquainting with one’s inner child and admiring as if seeing for the first time. Before such liberation, one walks around with jaded lenses. What a joy to “see” again the vibrant colours and experiences of each season.
“Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.” ― Rumi
With only 24 hours of free rides up in the sky, I choose India. I’d get to a little fishing village in Kerala, India and stay at Amritapuri Ashram with Amma (Mata Amritanandamayi) and her devotees.
under autumn leaves dreams of flying far away home of Krishna
home of Krishna fishing village by the sea Amma sings
Amma sings even snakes bow in honour petals on her feet
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
