Beginning Again with Haiku

I’m back in the saddle! I’ve missed sharing my morning musings with you all. So today marks the new incarnation of my DALIES. I will rise and allow a HAIKU to form, send it to my daughter Elizabeth, who will then – create an image to accompany any additional words that may or may not flow. I hope it reaches your inbox. If not -it will also be posted on my Facebook pages.

My windows are open and I’m smiling broadly – happy to welcome you back into my mornings.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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Afternoon Bower

imageWhile Antoinette is taking some time away from her ‘Dailies’  – she continues to wax poetic in all her conversations with me (Lizzie, her daughter).  I have a notion to keep track of the momentary inspirations she shares – and share them, via her blog   – until she returns to the keyboard.

Here’s one from two years back  – which somehow slipped through the cracks – unpublished.  Since this week  – she talked about how she spoke to the trees saying: “Please green, yes green again” – this post is perfect.

Just last week, the branches were bare.
I could see across the road to the next row of trees. Lots of sky
allowed the clouds their streaming promise of blossoms below.

And suddenly, it’s all here. Was it over-nght? Maybe. Anyhow,
those blossoms are here! Some reflection on that

” Not all poems seek
Permanence. Think of those
Lover’s couplets
That wove tall
Meadow grass
Into an afternoon’s bower.

Some forever;
Others, just one sweet hour.”

…………..GREGORY ORR, in his book, River Inside the River,
a part of three lengthy pieces exploring love.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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“WRITING DOWN THE BONES”

IMG_1607I’ve always loved the title of that small Shambala Pocket Classic,
written 30 years ago.  My dog-eared copy shows those years!

The sub-title, “Freeing the Writer Within” is what hooked me in the
beginning, and since then has proven its worth.
Consider this on page 87:
“I say all writers, no matter how fat, thin, or flabby have good figures.
The are always working out. Remember this. They are in tune, toned up,
in rhythm with the hills, the highway and can go for long stretches and
many miles of paper. They  move with grace in and out of many worlds.” ~ Natalie Goldberg

Yes!  tomorrow I may have a poem but this is my ode to urge you to
pick up a pencil or pen and just write your heart out. No erasures,
no crossed out lines, just go for it, and leave it to continue another day.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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OCCASIONS

PAFA-Image-3

Woman Reading by a Window, 1905 Artist: Gari Melchers

To celebrate the return of the early sun is a kind of wonder.
What do we say to each other?

How about this:

“I wish for you that when you awake

You emulate the leaf and the bird;

That like them, touched with grace, you take

Note of the wind.  You have not heard

Its low-voiced billows yet, nor seen

( Lost in your less elated rest)

The empty light upon the green,

The leaves and tumbling birds that gave

The wind its due, and then redressed

That small excess, each bounding spray

A boat that dances on the wave,

A whip that tingles in the day.”

……………..DANIEL DAVIE, 1922-1995
from an Anthology of the Best Poetry Since 1900,
edited by Michael Schmidt

Very much like the view from my window this April morning.
Celebrate the day.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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SKIPPING PARAGRAPHS

"for the small, sturdy symbols of inextinguishable hope that encourage us"

“for the small, sturdy symbols of inextinguishable hope that encourage us”

I pick up a poetry book and notice that there are times when a poem looks very long, let’s just skip paragraphs here and there.

So I tried that.

No go.

So, here it is in all its wonder and grace:

 

AT THE TIME OF GREATEST DARKNESS”

“At the time of greatest darkness
there is the greatest felt need
for celebration,

for the flickering illumination
of candles reaching into the world’s
dark places,

for the  ordinary, homely miracles that
stand against disaster, destruction
and despair,

for the small, sturdy symbols
of inextinguishable hope that
encourage us

not to mistrust the strength
of the gentle, the decent,
the comic, the kind,

for ritual words that give shape
to shared memory, carrying with them
believable promise,

for laughter that snuffs out fear,
and for an irrepressible merriment
obliterating darkness.”

………….CAROL A. ARMSTRONG,
from the book, Everything Waits To Be Noticed

Let  this be a good day.
always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette.

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THE GIFT OF 2015

Drawing care of Buddha Doodles and Molly Hahn

Drawing care of Buddha Doodles and Molly Hahn

It’s still dark, not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.
I opened my computer and up popped Chris Williamson’s “Waterfall“,
filling up and spilling over.
everything’s goin’ to be all right…

The gift of 2015 is in this poem from David Whyte’s “River Flow”:

“All these years
forgetting
how easily
you can belong
to everything
simply by listening.

And the slow
difficulty
of remembering
how everything
is born from
an opposite
and miraculous
otherness.

Silence and winter
have led me to that
otherness.

So let this winter
of listening
be enough
for the new life
I must call my own.”

………………………………………………….
May your giving and receiving be miraculous
and lovely and fun.

always love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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Once More From the Top

 Walking without disturbing the leaves...


Walking without disturbing the leaves…

Like the lines of a song, you want to hear, sing it one more time.
So it can be with poems: a sense that it was saying more than it simply seemed.
Like this one:

” SOMETIMES”

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest,

breathing
like the ones
in the old stories,

who could cross
a shimmering bed of leaves
without a sound,

you come
to a place
whose only task

is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests

conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.

Requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and

to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,

questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,

questions
that have patiently
waited for you,

questions
that have no right
to go away.”

……………….DAVID WHYTE, from his book,
River Flow,  New & Selected Poems, 1984-2007

I recall being 11 years old, new to Norwalk, CT, where roads and hills
were still open and growing.  Part of this new life was the experience of
learning to walk the woods around a local lake exactly as the poem
says,  breathing like the ones in the old stories,  without a sound.

Dears, that was 85 years ago. I have learned how to listen to my body’s
memories as new and curious experiences guide me through this changing world.
I like the idea of treating these new ways as a way to walk without disturbing
the leaves.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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SUMMER WIND

imageThis poem was sitting in a special pile near my computer and it’s time to share it. with you all.

I’m calling it ‘summer wind’ because now in November it carries the inner warmth of discovery:

” I KNOW HER

She stands there, eyes wide, outside herself

vulnerable, what do they see… fearful, cowering,

exposed

From a distance, I watch myself, empathy

rises up

She doesn’t remember me, yet I have known
her oh so well
From the very beginning, and now, can she

look at me?

Can she embrace, trust, how far have we come?

Silently I say…

‘I am here to stay’.

………………………….CINDY MARCUS, 9 August 2015

May we all embrace love, always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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CHANGE OF LIGHT

image

 

It is now after 6am in New England, and it’s dark!

Only yesterday, the sun was pouring in and it was time for the day to begin.

Let’s take time while we can, here in the dark, remember that sunny feeling.

Let’s recall the
MIDSUMMER PRAYER:

In midsummer, under the luminous
sky of everlasting light,

the laced structures of thought
fall away

like the filigrees of the white
diaphanous

dandelion turned pure white and
ghostly,

hovering at the edge of its own
insubstantial

discovery in flight. I’ll do the same,
watch

the shimmering dispersal of tented
seeds

lodge in the tangled landscape
without

the least discrimination. So let my own
hopes

escape the burning wreck of ambition,
parachute

through the hushed air, let them spread
elsewhere,

into the tangled part of life that refuses
to be set straight.

Herod searched of days looking for
the children.

The mind’s hunger for fame will hunt down
all innocence.

Let them find safety in the growing wild,
I’ll not touch them there.”

………………. DAVID WHYTE, from his book of poems,
River Flow, 1984-2007

Fall back, spring forward, they say.
Coming soon.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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Christopher Robin

imageYes, “Christopher Robin is saying his prayers ”  That line pops into my head for no apparent reason.

That phrase that A.A. Milne gave us carries the image of a safe and loving world.

It’s still dark out, all possibility poised to show up with the sunrise.

Each of us can stop, listen, and say to each other :

“You are braver than you believe,

Stronger than you seem,

And smarter than you think.”

………….CHRISTOPHER ROBIN, (A.A.Milne)

Dear friends, I know that is as absolutely true for you as it was for
Winnie, the Pooh.

always with love,
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

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