SNOW, O NO!

Digitalized photo by S. Auberle
(new photo, old poem)

KOAN

Snow on the south side

is melting tonight,

brown patches scattered

among the white.

Smoke rises from

the neighbor's house

joining a cloud

drifting over the lake.

I imagine Ryokan, the Zen monk,

two hundred years ago

in his solitary hut,

a fire made only of leaves

blown to his door.

His brush shivers

across the precious paper:

evening in the deep mountains

all covered in white snow.

I feel everything vanish,

yes my soul and body too...

The snow is melting tonight

in brown patches

scattered among the white.

Smoke vanishes into a cloud.

Why should we lament our passing?

MARCH MORNING

Photo by S. Auberle

Spring unfurling

one small promise

at a time...

~  mimi

EQUINOX

Photo by S. Auberle

at the window

my orchid and I

gone mad with spring

~  mimi

FOR MALATHI

Photo/Painting by S. Auberle

After the first bike ride of spring on this incredible day, I came home and began looking through old boxes of poems and found this beautiful springtime piece.  But the real story behind it is this:  quite a few years ago, a dear friend was dying in another city far away.  I knew her death would be soon, and when the call came that morning I wasn't surprised.  What did surprise me, however, was that immediately after I received the call and went to e-mail other friends, this poem appeared on a website that I had accidentally opened (or not)...

AFTER SHEN ZHOU

A single chime of jade across the waters

as along this rocky shore the moment expands

and somewhere within it is hidden a dwelling apart

to which only the absolute ones make good their escape.

The Way seems not to exist (so the master taught)

and yet it is there--and springtime returns once more,

ageless and unreclaimed, to the inner lands.

What purity!  The peach trees are in blossom,

birds chirp and stir, and there by the narrow stream

two white-robed figures wait to greet my crossing...

Shall I not make my move at last, and join them?

 ~  Frederick Morgan

ST. PADDY'S DAY

Photo from Wikipedia


Somewhere I have a photo of me kissing the actual blarney stone, dangling upside down, four stories up in a very old  Irish castle...an unforgettable experience for sure.  Still not sure what that was supposed to do for me, other than increase my fondness for poetry, Guinness, and Jameson's, which in fact, it did...but it was a soft Irish day, with good friends and family in one of the most beautiful countries in the world and I am grateful.  Come to think of it, that could be responsible for the six years of blarney I've produced on this blog! 

LA FHEILE PADRAIG SONA DAOIBH!

SHE FOX

Photo by S. Auberle

She is lean this early spring,

but bold,  black mottled

in her red fur

stepping gingerly

on one leg,

the other three

slender and quick.

We are neighbors,

share the same grassy field,

the benevolent cedar

that shelters her.

Perhaps something in her

remembers an ancestor,

pregnant one deep winter,

starving, and the kindness

shown here by a woman

maybe like me,

who felt compassion,

fed her that long dark time

until the kits were born

knowing,

in that spirit place we

have in common,

that humans are good

now and then, leaving

an egg, a crust of bread

a bone sticking up

through the snow...

an old poem brought back into the light by the sighting of a fox in my yard...this first published in "Crow Ink"

BLOSSOMING

Photo/Painting by S. Auberle

"There came a time when the risk to remain

tight in the bud was more painful

than the risk it took to blossom."

~  Anais Nin

A QUIET MOMENT

Photo/Painting by S. Auberle

"How many times have you noticed

that it's the little quiet moments

in the midst of life

that seem to give the rest

extra-special meaning?"

~  Mister Rogers

#800

Digitally altered drawing by S. Auberle

Today is an auspicious day--Post #800!  I started this blog in February, 2006, and to this day am still not sure why I keep it up.  The heading at the top, I guess, says it all--"for peace and the planet--connecting through the arts."  I still believe that if I can get someone to slow for a moment; to stop and smell the roses or the dandelions; notice a mountain or a river--that it helps to balance this fragile planet of ours.  And I LOVE seeing the map of my visitors' countries--thank you to all!  For the 800th post I just happen to have a poem entitled "800 Moons" which is approximately the number of full moons I've seen in my lifetime.   (never was all that good at math...)

800 MOONS

What I want to say is this:

remember me, please,

not for my mistakes—

though they loom large,

but if you could,

and if you would, remember

how I cherished poems

and how splendid I thought the small

things, like hanging laundry

in the fresh wind, the dance

of jeans and sheets on the line. 

Remember that I adored ice cream

with caramel and almonds,

and every one of the eight hundred

moons I’ve watched crossing the sky.

Remember me in your awe

of earth things—a procession

of cranes down a sunset river,

hillsides of wild, Scottish broom,

singing coyotes on spring nights--

not only the cheerful yipping of pups--


but that last, long, mournfull howl... 

~  mimi