May there be light in 2022

 

Walking

 

and the shadows it creates.  
Not to mention the stories,
the imaginary friends.  
Those friends remembered. 
A few spilled leaves.

Not understanding

an image (a piece of art, a piece of writing, a combination of such) doesn't preclude enjoyment.  There's joy in the experiencing.  

December is the time for gloves.

What looks to me like a glove, transforms into a bearded iris.  December, no less.  I'm thinking of petals as flower-gloves.

A cathedral of molten light

 or tears.  Which do you think?  And who were the builders?  Who laid the cornerstone?

Most definitely

 the voice in a dream!  Of which -- dreaming that is -- I am doing much of late.  Less cooking.  Wonder why?  

and if I told you...

this is an image of an empty glass put through an app to add color, would you think the glass half empty?

 

Let there be light

May we remember so there is a place at the table for each of us.  

 

Don't know why

but I'm thinking 

of an am amaryllis 

in reverse?  

 

Meet dear, Eleanor

It's that day and raining here -- a blessing.  I imagine in your neighborhood, you are counting snowflakes.  Drops and flakes.  Flakes and drops.  Be peaceful, dear friend.

 

Conversation:

 the deepest are with light. Abundance and the lack of.....

Makes my mind giddy

and go in circles: sugar maples ablaze in December.  I want to cook up some spicy tomato sauce, roast red peppers, craft a few giddy one-line poems.  Wear a pair of my many red shoes.  

One of the finest reasons to celebrate...

 today is haiku's birthday 11/30/2004

(the one on the left, of course)

I think today is a fine day to

celebrate the width and breathe of whiskers.  Thanks, Mao.
 

And don't overlook pomegranates

 Truly, winter is a sweet & juicy season.  

Aging roses

 resemble the skins of alliums, specifically onions and garlic.  

Develop

 an inner brightness

Delight

often comes to me on four paws.  Should you ask, this charmer's name is Mao, aka Mao-Burger.

Sometimes it's not sunlight

which calms us but approaching rain which leads us to introspection

Verdant turkey wishbone

may every day be a day of gratitude

 

Welcoming the most unexpected

 

Every day deserves

 a riot of color

Moving in and out

of center

black

and

white

all 

color

required

 

Small things --

what memory makes fragrant.  I'm thinking of a favorite group of 5 cherry trees. Of course, no blossoms now but just look at the life force at the base of this cherry.  Within 6-7 months, a cornucopia of cherry blossoms and a gathering of every bee within 2 miles.  But right now is exactly a gift.  

 

Metaphor can be tricky

 Some rivers which appear wet are dry but wet with metaphor.  Are people like this too?

The monumental appeals

on an intimate level.  

Imbeds personal history.  

Imbeds personal intentions.  

So solid; so open to major change. 

 

And I thought the sky was monumental

and a palm tree tall.  Rocks at Andreas Canyon in Indian Canyon, Palm Springs.  Sometimes the holy is too large for the palm of a hand, although grace is always in the particulars.  

Whatever this might be

 I want it in my life.  Perhaps, it will spin to the cycles of the moon.  Yes, I believe, it will.  

Is it curious to want what you can't name?  

Perhaps, that is the journey called curiosity.  

What's the relation of koi and rain?

What is the relationship of a red wagon left in the rain?
What is the relationship of red rubber boots and rain?
What is the relationship of sugar maple leaves felled by rain?
What is the relationship of earth and the first full rain of a season?
What's the relationship of window (closed) and rain?
And where do the wild turkeys harbor in such a rain?

 

Time is closing down

somewhere else time is opening.  And truth, this is not time's landscape. Simply the SubZeo refrigerator meeting the common iPhone at night.   There you have it.  An intersection of happy.  
 

The order of letters matters

 angel and angle

Doesn't take a lot of thought

to feel the sacred in nature.  Trees are a great beginning.  Eucalyptus, in particular.  How far the effects of roots extend. Reminds me of soups and stews when Autumn begins its sharp chill.  

 

Learn something everyday

Who knew lantana had berries (only the ripe purple ones, edible).  Who knew lantana is affectionally called "ham & egg" bush.  

Beauty in the particulars

I almost missed those gossamer threads tying magic to the majestic.  Beauty, too, in that word "almost."

 

Music is a third eye

What are you seeing?

Don't be misguided

nothing 
is a state
of floating
preferably
in color
through 
color
into
other
colors
until
the question
appears
what's for lunch  (and yes, questions are appearances, floating)

Flower as fish

To see as is.  To see as the other.  To behold both.  
 

The dark room

what image will emerge?  And on which leg will you be be standing?  Which wall will give you the answer?  Which ear will hear it first?  

 

Are you drawn to the circle

or the circle within a circle?  Or the dark center? And by which means will you arrive there?  What will you pack for the journey? What lines of poetry memorize?  What recipes will your fingers space along the circumference of whichever circle you choose?  Or are you simply an observer?  

Silence

enters the percussive. Re-reading Chiyo-ni. Sipping tea.  Remembering last night's jazz.  
 

Anticipation

is personal on so many levels -- color, energy, transformation.  Personally, I think of steam rising from cooking beets.  Yes, both golden and red.  Also, should you ask, I know of no other literary form more than the haiku which imbeds so much anticipation.   

 

Neither landscape nor watercolor

Perhaps, the intersection of time & memory. Perhaps, not.  

Now is not the time to change your mind

and decide you're more comfortable with everything in alignment.  That time has passed.  As you dear friend Eleanor would tell you, "Time is not rewindable.  Nor can too much salt be extracted from a dish." Put on your red shoes and go for a walk.  
 

Is there anything more serene..

 

light rain in the evening no matter which season, no matter where you are living at the time.  Light rain 

makes me want to grab a favorite book of haiku.  Makes we want to sip tea and count the number of times the flame in a votive candle flickers.  

  

 

Sit quietly

and watch

the familiar

float 
whether
on the patio
or in a cafe 
with a friend
between

sips 

of coffee

Cryptic

Mystery and the anticipation of a mysterious message.  Written in the language of dreams, not to-do-lists.  Written on the inside of small stones which you gather as you walk your usual route.  Walking in your red shoes might lead to a fortuitous journey.  Yes, those red shoes.  

Perhaps not quite

extraterrestrial.  But at least surreal.  Some spaces are more conducive.  Who would disagree that the kitchen is home to transformations on many levels.  Including, of course,  rudimentary vegetables.  Especially those brightly-hued.  Of course, I'm thinking of beets and radishes  and carrots and Dino kale.  Get out the blender!