The family gathered in her home, feeling her presence everywhere. One daughter, sat rocking in her mother’s chair by the window, reminiscing
all took turns
even the woodpecker,
paid their respects
© Tournesol ’15
Paying respect (haibun)
Tag: grief
Loyal Friend (Haibun)
This was inspired by a Choka I wrote previously, here, when contemplating on the wren.
The woman would sit on the cold concrete during her fifteen minute break. She was wrapped in woolen coat, toque and scarf, shielded by cement pillars. That cold winter, ten years ago, sat in mourning contemplation by a bed of frozen dirt, was once a garden. Twelve months went by as she sat day by day, accompanied by her faithful wren.
bereft, she sits
wren pecks on frozen soil,
a sacred visit
© Tournesol ’15
echoes in the night (Ese’s Through the darkest hour ~Tan Renga Challenge)
through the darkest hour
every tree top in the forest
adorned with a star © Ese
through the darkest hour
every tree top in the forest
adorned with a star
echoes of rustling leaves
trees shudder in mourning
grief deferred
rising star beams with joy
la renaissance
© Tournesol ’15
brief moments (haiku)
soothing voice (haibun) Haiga festival – Troiku
It is interesting that this prompt is posted the exact day I was reminiscing of times past with my mother. I was speaking with someone yesterday who mentioned that he felt sad that he no longer remembered the voice of his long deceased mother. That made me think about people I love who have passed especially my mother who recently passed this past December. I remember her voice, her off-key voice when singing, her laugh…oh her laugh!! and her cough that was unique to her. She always tried to be a lady even when coughing and would clear her throat a bit like her mother (GrandMaman) but still unique to her. I remember her ankles making that snapping sound when she entered the church when I was little and clearing her throat, I felt so much better knowing she was joining me in the pew closer to the front of the church very soon for the priest in the pulpit high up was quite ominous!
Even when she was sick and her memory was muddled, her voice never changed. I remember sitting in the front seat of the car when I was very little because I was always car sick and leaning my big fat head on her breast always worried my heavy head would crush her tiny breasts.
I remember her singing pop songs of the 50`s missing a few words here and there but her voice would make any hit parade. And of course her signature pinch. She loved with such affection she had to control herself from pinching our cheeks too hard.
I remember her telling me so often, “Dont worry, darling. Dont forget to say your three Hail Mary`s and your Act of Contrition before going to sleep.” And the latter not that long ago.
when I close my eyes,
brings me back in time
her voice soothes me
when I close my eyes
beauty adds red to her lips
scent of Youth Dew
brings me back in time
pins my hair in a French twist
pinches my cheeks
a voice that soothes me
humming Toura Loura Loura
Hush, but I now cry
© Tournesol ’15
faith wins despair (haiga)
embracing cascades
spilling into dark waters,
release her despair
seeking refuge
leans over the footbridge,
faith holds her back
© Tournesol ’15
taps the soul (haiga)
Back to Basics – Carpe Diem Writing Techniques
***********************
holding folded flag
bugle sounds that tap the soul
weeping for her son
*
weeping for her son
honour does not spare a life,
curses every war
(c) Tournesol ’15
forever fragrance (haiga)
wrapped in her shawl
closing my eyes I shudder
scent of Shalimar
© Tournesol ’15
Winter gems glow (Troiku)
Haiku is a image of a moment in time, put on pause… examined, dissected and most important, felt. This was my moment in time when I got up this morning. My first day off for the weekend, like most people, a well needed rest in our long winters here.
golden glow
glistening charms melt
teardrops
I set that haiku aside for two hours and wrote another post and came back to edit it until I thought it “felt” like my moment. It did. Afterwards I decided to do a Troiku with this haiku which I learned at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai.
golden glow
blinding baby blues
mouse squeals
~
glistening charms melt
shallow puddles form,
strays lap
~
teardrops
softened by whispers
from heaven
© Tournesol ’15
solitude (haibun)
Solitude may not always mean sadness, it is simply being alone. Many times it is by choice. It is interesting that loneliness, isolation, seclusion and privacy are synonyms found for solitude. I suppose if it is not by choice it can be painful and lonely. However, if it is by choice, it is almost a refuge, a place to breath, collect one’s thoughts…create, compose. Perhaps when we know of someone who is living alone, we could ask if they feel lonely and not assume all persons living alone are unhappy. I love people; I am a very social person and love to laugh and enjoy the company of friends and my children. I also love my “alone” time where I can hear myself think. The silence sometimes screams …those are often my thoughts waiting to be put “on paper”.
Since the passing of my mom, I don’t feel the same aloneness I felt leaving work, walking with a heavy step after a shift…I feel a presence, a shadow that quickens my step, removes a load off my shoulder…I feel blessed…in her grace…shadow of her love.
Walking home
under the umbrella
skies weep
skies weep
souls scream shedding despair
bleeding,
I no longer walk alone
her shadow comforts me.
shadow comforts me
arriving home alone
my cat purrs
my cat purrs
lingers by my laptop,
hushed whispers
hushed whispers
I’m here if you need me
no longer alone.
© Tournesol ’14
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
