April showers
Mother Nature spring-cleaning
false impression
our planet cries
bury our heads in the sand
defend delusions
© Tournesol ’15
Poetry ~ Waka
April showers
Mother Nature spring-cleaning
false impression
our planet cries
bury our heads in the sand
defend delusions
© Tournesol ’15
Living in solitude, eating lightly, controlling the thought, word, and deed; ever absorbed in yoga of meditation, and taking refuge in detachment. Bhagavad Gita
I used to travel by train, bus or car Montreal to Toronto which was about a 5 hour trip; I kept counting how many kilometers I had left to get to my destination. Now I rather take the train and enjoy the scenery…I try to stay awake to enjoy sites I missed all those years when I was in a hurry. That vast Lake Ontario, the farmlands, trees and so many quaint towns we pass along the way now capture my attention. No longer am I attached to time and destination…the journey is part of the trip.
caterpillar rests
embracing tranquility
butterfly flutters
(c) Tournesol ’15


feuille novice
inspirant nouvelle vie
regarde! larmes de joie!
fledgling leaf
breathing new life
Look! tears of joy!
(c) Tournesol `15
Written for Carpe Diem Haiku Shuukan. The emphasis is on GRACE (enlarge your capacity of compassion) as defined by Joan Halifax, a Zen Buddhist.
G Gathering attention
R Recalling intention
A Attuning to self other
C Considering
E Engaging
Our host writes:
after the rain
that sweet perfume of the earth –
cherry blossoms bloom
© Chèvrefeuille

hot summer showers
cools pavement on city streets
a homeless soaks her feet
a homeless soaks her feet
giddy like a young child
splashing with delight
splashing with delight
hot summer showers
fragrance of city parks
© Tournesol ’15
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

howling wind —
an autumn note within
the bamboo flute (Kala Ramesh)
rustling leaves prepare to fall
whistling wind turns into shrills
trembling twigs
awaiting emptiness
their naked fate
© Tournesol ’15
We are asked to write a haiku with the same topic in 3 varied haiku
5-7-5
first dandelion
daring little bud stretches
basking in the sun
3-5-3
dandelion
knocks on spring’s door
beaming
free style
yellow weed
looks like a flower
gulps sun rays
© Tournesol ’15
longing for flora
frown turns into a smile
flaming red tulip
© Tournesol ’15
Haiku Horizon “fire”
forgive them
they know not what they do
sins of their past
digging their graves
stirring boxes of rotted worms
sins of their past
© Tournesol ’15