Poetry ~ Waka
She looks out the window, waiting for daylight. Birds bid her a good morning in the darkness of the night still, fazing ever slowly. She turns to look at her mistress and waits for a sign, then nuzzles on her pillow and tries to catch some sleep in the quiet dim of night.
birds chirping
breakfast conference
pre-dawn call
© Tournesol’15
lovers sleeping,
woodpecker knocks at dawn
playing peekaboo
~
playing peekaboo
golden rays trickle,
morning nudge
© Tournesol ’15
Awakened by the lovely sound of birds chirping made her hope it might be sunny today. It is! Her friend meows in protest for having shut her bedroom door earlier in the morning. She chatters away expressing her discontent with a hint of hope to be stroked, fed and stroked some more.
The sky is a darker blue than most seasons…not quite cobalt but close with pearly billows drifting by accentuating the hues of this majestic sky.
sea of blue above
islands shaped in pearly greys
beg my surrender
She had moved her laptop in the living room so she could watch a movie last night and fires it up always curious to see the haiku prompt of the day at Carpe Diem Haiku kai. In the past few months she has not been as regular contributing and she misses her haijin family. Yesterday she took the time to visit a few siblings and cousins homes around the world in the blogosphere.
Her thoughts wander to a friend who is in San Ramon today and will be seeing Amma at her retreat. How she misses her warm and healing embrace. Some call her a guru, others call her a hugging saint…she feels she is all of these and more. Her healing touch, her soothing smile, her words of wisdom and mostly her way of living by loving, giving tirelessly to humanity makes her heart swell. Amma has a way of looking at you and making you see the beauty within. How she does it is a mystery or is it? She does not preach laws but models compassion and asks us to see the light we all have within.
Her mind drifts off to sounds of various bhjans songs and the tabla drumming to her heartbeat. Its echo makes her feel the divine beauty reflected from within. So many instruments mimic nature and human sounds; her Celtic spirit awakens with strings, flutes and drums that soften her heart. Drum circles come to mind and First Nations People who have become her conscious, reminding her to be good to Mother Earth.
She looks at her mala beads and remembers hearing Amma say last year, “We are all beads strung on the same string of love.” She tries to remember this daily. The image of several homeless people who sit along her path to work come to mind. Some speak French, English, Créole, Arabic or Spanish but she knows they all understand the same language…compassion.
sound of the drum
listen to the heart beat
all, one and the same
© Tournesol’15/11/14
In an era where we fear for the livelihood of bees and butterflies, here is a story of a home in Cambridge, Ontario where a colony of honey bees took residence in their home. The homeowners were not concerned about the presence of bees but worried about the fire hazard with honey dripping on electric wires and such. I love this story!
Tireless bees
strange bedfellows
wrapped in honey
© Tournesol’15
Credits:
CBC NEWS | Jun 30, 2015 | 2:44 50,000 freeloading honeybees get the boot
Hive removed from Cambridge, Ont., home, would have grown to about 80,000 bees in a month, says beekeeper Dave Schuitt
a single rose
rests on her gravestone
thorn in my heart
No more roses will be bought for her birthday …It was always roses that stirred her memory…her sense of smell awakened by the fragrance every time. But in a few days Mother’s ashes will finally be laid to rest next to her husband…the true love of her life.,, looking forward to this reunion.
rose by his side
no thorns can keep them apart
together at last
© Tournesol ’15
I was inspired by this beautiful photo from a post at Karuna Poole, my friend’s blog at LivingLearningandLettingGo here she shares a special morning in her garden.
Tranquil moments
Mother Nature’s morning
salutations
tranquil moments
wind whispers
new day
Mother Nature’s morning
wings stretch
tip to tip
salutations
honouring first dawn
the crow calls
© Tournesol ’15
Nothing nicer than a little break with Indian Summer just before the long cold months ahead. The trees are bare, the parks are empty, children back in school all day now. She sits on the park bench to soak up the warm sun with her parka on her lap.
Inhales quiet
sunshine winking
almost naked trees
© Tournesol’15
http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.ca/2015/06/carpe-diem-time-machine-10-indian.html
boiled rice slop
his old lady fans the treat
with evening coolness (Basho)
cups of green tea clink
toast of love and family
chanting songs,
grandmother’s warm embrace
cousins holding hands
© Tournesol’15
Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #91, Basho’s boiled rice slop
It is theMontreal International Jazz Festival that is here now with horns blaring, pianos declaring and sexy throaty singers making our hearts melt. At least a dozen stages outdoors setup in the entertainment district…minutes from cobblestone streets of Old Montreal, China Town and the Old Port. Ten marvelous days and nights of singing, dancing, swaying and slow dancing too.
Sax wails in pain
sultry baritone strings
lovers jive
© Tournesol ’15
tiny grey mouse
scurries off in the field
nervous as can be
long-haired tomcat
lazily opens one eye
puzzled as can be
mouse sighs
maternal love for her lump
relieved as can be
© Tournesol ’15
Tournesol dans un Jardin 