Memories

Opening your school yearbook after so many years

memory are like high places we cling to

revelations can pain your heart

you want to resist but rawness is hard to hide

like a cry of a sparrow

eyes and face can reveal so easily

what is to inhabit bleakness of a future

or emotional existence when tethering from ordinary

but youthful exploits can ripen into awareness

mistakes can be forgiven

contradictions can come to resolutions

you can rise again after a wicked plunge

new leaf, new lines of relationships 

can bloom in extraordinary clarity

you are a survivor.

Flirtations

Should I haiku

my way to you

light bends

The apple falls

flowers attract butterflies

bees circle around

Mothers wonder

children run to sounds of  a waterfall

does enthusiasm measure distances

The kite laughs with the wind

free and unafraid

a boy watches

Inquisitive, often in motion

a bird moves from from to branch

to opening spaces

I decide to be better

procrastination flirts

catches my curiosity

The splendor of order

my thoughts and a nightingale singing

a pebble and thunder

The swan’s wings sweep the air

clouds coalesce like a quilt

the pond and I mirror the scene

The swan, lovely and silent

unruffled by wakes of passing boats

somewhere, a monk in contemplation.

Unafraid, swelling with confidence, she prays 

the snow falls on top of trees

first week of December

My strength begins

paddles breaks the water

the ducks glide

The bell’s sounds of angelus

a moment of remembrance

farmers stand silent on the field

With darkening sky

poetic storm enters her vision

sharp and exhausting

Bowls and fields catch raindrops

seasons of need

umbrellas cover workers’ heads

note: The photos were taken during my walk to the river. Books I am reading. Our Book Club decided to read Moby Dick.

Hummingbirds

Hummingbirds suddenly 

seem to be everywhere

Chasing each other

 or hovering over the lavender 

The morning fog rises gently

You are standing in the midst, smiling.

I look at you and start talking

to myself.

You ask why ?

My way of clearing my mind 

sometimes it gets crowded with thoughts.

Don’t you get frightened 

when it gets empty?

Maybe that happens 

when someone you love leaves, 

walks away.

The hummingbirds leave one by one

and my friend

I am alone again.

The fog returns

I feel cold

I linger awhile

before I return home.

note: Books I’m reading: War and Peace. I was persuated by an article about Yiyun Li reading War and Peace once a year. And reading it along with others-Tolstoy Together.

Also reading Inseparable by Simone de Beauvoir.

Moments

Moments move our emotions, our life

How can I move like time

I am a humble hummingbird

Hovering over flowers until I am out breath

There is wisdom in the stones I will not know

Or a camaraderie with bees I will not experience

Where can I go my friend to touch the warmth of time

Perhaps I can find a child who will want a lullaby

My wings can sing her a song.

Into The Woods


Foggy brain and random words

Introduced me to forest bathing 

And being friendly with my neighbors

Walking in the woods makes me more attentive to sounds and light

Breathing fresh air with fragrance of trees and streams

My emotions calm down

I start feelings of gratitude

Each breath becomes easier and more regular

I feel connected to the world again

I can look at my pain and losses

Not wishing them to go away

But to go through them

And face them with gratitude

Every day is a new day

Appreciative of small and simple things

Like breathing, walking, dawn.

note: flowers I saw during my walk to the river today.

The View from a Window

The bougainvillea greets me abundantly 

like when I enter our kitchen 

scent of fish stew on simmer 

fills my senses

The fountain attracts attention

of squirrels carrying acorns 

hiding in our neighbor’s redwood tree . 

Will they be thirsty?

One lone umbrella and a table  

near a bed of roses 

like a fly fisherman standing alone 

in a  mountain stream

A white a statue sits on the wooden fence. 

It moves, has wings. It’s an egret.

I hear  hurried steps on the stairs and a voice.

Kaylee? Is that you?

It’s June. Everyone

is coming home.