Time to cross the square
heeding gentle beckoning
of time calling grace
nature’s carpet wall to wall
daybreak to nightfall
wherefore do you come
blow and show
paint the crow
no not me to know
Out of This World we tread
we plod and pound
of what we leave aground
too gentle to form an icicle
yet it means
somewhere in time
as the distant bells chime
Just the way I see you sometimes
this day I shall not fly alone
with new hope and not forlorn
my depressed mind
as my spirit heard you said
do not fear
for I have wiped away your every tear
as I have come forth
here is My heart
as always of old
you are loved
this day you will not fly alone
Note added: a famous Christian man who lived for 99 years and is known to perhaps millions in this world died on 21st February 2018 . This poem was written and posted on the 16th five days before that day while fasting for Lent.
Because the sky is so blue, the trees are so green and the clouds are marching pass, he just has to write to his Beloved. So here comes the poem someone hands to me in a dream about this old love of a beloved and a poet.
I have to write to my beloved
before this song of spring kisses my heart
like countless encounters shoved
mercilessly repeating its depart
I can hear your distant song
clear as bells from yonder hill
here is my heart please don’t stay too long
though you must go, rest awhile, for all your dreams refill
You sing of life
you sing of hope
you sing of every dream I claim I am
I have to write to you my beloved
but I cannot say
what I have prepared for perchance
my head starts snowing
and frights away last year’s wee birds nesting
pulling out my roots from rooting
yet my lamp is still burning
my heart is never quenching
to dream the dream of immortalizing
Variations on a Theme -marriage.
the wife loves flowers
higher or lower
she will climb or stoop
just to do a loop
not the hyperloop
deco her proper coop
do not touch my chicken coop you nincompoop
wife screams with her scoop
the wife just loves flowers
same as I love mower
my shinny new machine
can do any syn
grass or flower on auto power
sunrise or sunset
programmed to get set
everytime we chat
the wife loves flowers
sorry I need shower
no time to chitchat
got to do my bet
I experimented with a picture taken of September flowers by simple and rather primitive copy and paste four times of one selected section in oval through varying its sizes to show different perspectives. So the outcome is like the unplugged poem of a simple generic rural couple living their ordinary life each enjoying his /her hobby with different perspectives.
Note that even in rural life the guy has access to internet and chat etc.
every investor knows that the value of anything is not the value we pay for at the moment we transact. it is another value we see in the unseen, a future value of the investment and this involves the crucial word “Growth“. without seeing a potential for growth we will not bother to invest. every human is born as an infant and the potential for growth is intrinsic in the person. it is an assumption that the person will grow in physical and other realms which will determine the worth of the person. when the investment/infant does not grow the potential worth is not materialized. what is the true reality when it comes to the value of every person? the value is always at the level where the individual has grown into. can a person not grow? of course anyone can choose to not grow to the potential each person is designed to become. stagnation or stuntedness are personal choices. i am not talking about physical aspect. there are many realms in our lives. we can find positive potentials in many realms. the key word is “GROW”. Just move on and you will not stagnate. i look forward to seeing many bountiful harvests for those who believe so that you may be a joyous blessing to others too. (to be continued)
some words of wisdom to ponder on:
Genesis 2:9 The Lord God made all sorts of trees grow up from the ground—trees that were beautiful and that produced delicious fruit.
Genesis 26:13 He became a very rich man, and his wealth continued to grow.
Proverbs 13:11 Wealth from get-rich-quick schemes quickly disappears; wealth from hard work grows over time.
Psalm 90:12 Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.
Psalm 92:12 But the godly will flourish like palm trees and grow strong like the cedars of Lebanon.
this is a song i would not sing
because the song has run away in sync
with other days i shall not bring
this is a song i should not sing
because its lyrics have bloomed into an early spring
here here i call in the midst of freezing
into a laboriously sculptured thing
there there replies the happy song to dare
unyielding crusty earth to break forth today
to quench upon the outpouring heavenly dew
that refuses my lingering sad adieu
much as i want to tell you about a cold alienating bland ordinary winter
my song rebels and sings of a fiery bonding love in many resplendent splendor
instead of decrepitating into ashy ice
my hibernating heart wakes to early rise
by your twin spade of starry eyes
no i will not say goodbye you say
no you will not say goodbye i say
yet this is a song i will not sing to you
the song is rewriting its lyrics anew
as i go
sometimes we just keep speed going
no longer soul mopping
Lo heaven store opening
generous out pouring
returning travelers rail tracking
family reunion gathering
nothing is free son
all must be prepaid
a voice from behind the wooden wall warns.
mind your step son
on real snow must be prepared
as he trips his foot over a thorn
the glassy bottles rattle
as he glides across and prattles
leaving behind many feet long gutter
clash, crash, clatter, smash
gliding rolling sputtering
not to worry ma’am stop hollering
i got cash to pay
boy looks up into dad’s face bathed in bright sun ray
I took this picture in a mining town which had stopped operation. It is now for tourists and perhaps movies shooting. The autumn had long gone or was never there due to high altitude. But I like to keep the title as autumn story. Why? Because autumn gives a sense of forlorn beauty, a time to let go, mellow down and rest with a good warm cup of _________(fill in your favorite drink) and listen to random poetry reading, good and bad. Poetry writing is a personal thing. But reading is even better because the sound is part of the fun and you do not have to commit anything except some minutes/seconds of your life.
She says, No one passes here anymore;
You know, less is more.
her eyes not engaging, hands fluttering
like butterfly trapped
on fake glass map.
You shouldn’t be here, Peter.
Her fingers deftly whittle
away a wooden kettle.
Too late now
we are closing down,
Peter. (She throws a bone across the table)
No one passes by anymore;
Less is more.
(Something orange Peeks, stirs and darts away from behind the door label, “Do not disturb”)
I took this picture on a beautiful autumn day in November 2015. You may ask me, is there a real story behind the above attempt of a “poem”? My answer is, you are free to find your own story. I am OK with any interpretation.
Incidentally, I just watched a touching, hour-long interview with an award winning old poet who started writing poetry in her teen, I realize how far away from poetry I have strayed since teen. I prefer Haiku because it is short. But it is not as satisfying as writing a poem.
As the poet urges, there is something one just needs to express. She enjoys painting and music but she cannot be good enough to be a painter or a musician. So she writes poetry to present her painting and music. To her, every poem is a precious creation and needs to be birthed with the best she has inside, to become a positive encouragement to others who read it. If I were to use one word to describe her, I would use the word, “Genuine”. She is genuine about her limitation and her giftedness.
I only came across her poetry yesterday while doing a research on a writers’ festival in another city for someone. After reading some of her work, I mentioned that I would like to buy one of her volumes. Today I received the good news that someone who attended the festival today has bought an autographed print for me as a gift! (I am looking forward to read it when it arrives).
Textures of leaves reflect the seasons they represent. This tree was in the process of changing her presentation. A dream-like moment of transformation…But I cannot recall taking this picture. Did I download this from someone? I googled and could not find any other source. A mystery?
Textures of red.
This picture was taken this morning when I saw a glimpse of red in a little park. Whilst this is not a red rose, I would share a touching sentimental poem about red love.
O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
A Red, Red Rose
Poet: Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796)
Biography Summary (Quoted from Scottish Poetry Library online)
If ever a poet understood the character of his nation, he was Robert Burns. The language he was most fluent in wasn’t so much Scots or English – it was the language of the heart. All too human in his personal life, he carried that humanity over onto the page. Nothing was too small or too large to escape his notice, from a mouse in the mud to God in his heavens. A poet for all seasons, Burns speaks to all, soul to soul.
Bible verse on the color red and the love of God:
Colossians 1:13-15 New King James Version (NKJV)
13 He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, 14 in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins.
15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.
Underwater life is no magic. It is real in the tangible physical world. Where did such wonder come from? The same where every living and none living things (including planets and the origins of the materials and matters that form planets, stars, gases and forces) and creatures come from.
And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly and swarm with living creatures, and let birds fly over the earth in the open expanse of the heavens.
God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that moves, which the waters brought forth abundantly, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good (suitable, admirable) and He approved it.
And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let the fowl multiply in the earth. (Genesis 1:20-22)
Notes (excerpted from Wikipedia online)
The Monterey Bay Aquarium (MBA) is a non-profit public aquarium located in Monterey, California, United States. The aquarium was founded in 1984 and is located on the site of a former sardine cannery on Cannery Row. It has an annual attendance of around two million visitors. It holds thousands of plants and animals, representing more than 600 species on display. The aquarium benefits from a high circulation of fresh ocean water which is obtained through pipes which pump it in continuously from Monterey Bay. Sea life on exhibit includes stingrays, jellyfish, sea otters, sea horses, and numerous other native marine species, which can be viewed above and below the waterline. In January 1996, the aquarium opened the Outer Bay wing to provide exhibits covering the open-water ecology of Monterey’s Outer Bay. The MBA has more than 400 employees and over 1000 volunteers. Operating costs are largely covered by visitor admission, as well as by special events and membership dues. No government money is involved, with the exception of an occasional federal grant given to visiting scientists, for study.
This picture of tiny berries was taken when I was looking for bright colors in Autumn. It grew by the roadside. The colors are rich and give a feeling of the richness of nature in this season when those who labor can expect a harvest. The birds and squirrels too have waited for this time as they need to prepare for the bareness of Winter. I cannot now remember whether it was the same day I met some squirrels who were busy working and hardly noticed my existence. When I saw them I became careful not to loiter near their workplace. We remained friendly and mutually respectful acquaintances from a distance.
Psalm 72:16 There shall be abundance of grain in the soil upon the top of the mountains [the least fruitful places in the land]; the fruit of it shall wave like [the forests of] Lebanon, and [the inhabitants of] the city shall flourish like grass of the earth. (AMPC)
He said goodbye to this Tiny garden that morning as he did the usual round of walking solo before he left for another country.
Walking is a passion but it cannot be done with joy without the existence of the teeming lives on the way. This cluster of tiny flowers livens up his walk. They are like friends who are so used to each other that they hardly need to talk. A gentle tilting of the head and a shadow of a smile at the tip of the lips, a slight lighting up of the eyes, and a mutual recognition in the heart…are all that requires. For good friends it is not hard to say goodbye. They update travel schedule by forwarding the airline email. Sometimes they text the other when they are onboard waiting for others to settle and the waitresses to walk pass and remind them to turn off the mobiles.
In the olden era in an eastern country the traveler is usually accompanied by the friend and they walk outside the city gate to where the meandering highway touches the foot of a mountain. They pause and toast each other a farewell drink and then part. The same for the waterway. They part at the quay and wait till the boat sails off with the traveler. Many beautiful farewell poems are written and I quote below two poems in the translated versions I found at random on the internet.
Wang Wei (701-761): Farewell (1- Here in the hills, I bade you farewell)
1 Here in the hills, I bade you farewell;
2 And by dusk I closed my twiggen door.
3 O grass will again be green next spring!
4 Might you, my lord, be back once more?
Farewell to a Friend
by Li Bai
Green mountains bar the northern sky;
White water girds the eastern town.
Here is the place to say goodbye,
You’ll drift out, lonely thistledown.
Like floating cloud you’ll float away;
With parting clay I’ll part from you.
We wave and you start on your way,
Your horse still neighs: “Adieu! adieu!”
Well, my brothers and sisters, let’s summarize. When you meet together, one will sing, another will teach, another will tell some special revelation God has given, one will speak in tongues, and another will interpret what is said. But everything that is done must strengthen all of you. (1 Corinthians 14:26)
The flowers are Not in Chaos !
Shine on Davis, Sacramento, Colfax
As I look at these pictures I took last January from a train, I realize how attractive the color yellow is when the sun shines on it. The buildings with the yellow plastered on them are basked under the sunshine and become beautiful. They are of three distinctly different architecture. The third one is not the station itself. But I use this photo because of the art someone put on it to make it friendly despite its being a mere humble godown or something like that (my apology as I cannot figure out what it is looking at its back). Notwithstanding its lacking in impressive historically or culturally relevant architecture, I like the fact that when the sun shines on it the color stands out just as well as the others. In fact, all three buildings bring out the shine well in each own unique way.
Here are some facts about the three stations quoted from Wikipedia.
The original Sacramento station was the terminal of the Central Pacific Railroad. The present building, designed by the San Francisco architectural firm of Bliss and Faville for the Southern Pacific Railroad, was built in 1926 in the Renaissance Revival style. Decorative features include a red tile roof and terracotta trim, as well as large arches on the main facade. It was rebuilt in 2012. Architectural style: Late 19th And 20th Century Revivals, Other.
Davis, formerly known as Davisville, is a train station in Davis, California. It was built by the California Pacific Railroad between August 24 and November 15, 1868, In 1871 the Cal-P (as it later was called) was taken over by the Central Pacific Railroad; a fire later burned down the 19th century-style station. In 1914 the Central Pacific built a second depot, which was remodeled in 1986. The depot was listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1976. Architectural style: Mission/Spanish Revival.
Colfax station is an Amtrak train station in Colfax, California. It serves the California Zephyr line. It is unstaffed. The station was built in 1905 by Southern Pacific Railroad and was restored in the early 21st Century; in addition to a waiting room, the building also houses the Colfax Heritage Museum.
is a comparative advantage. It is also the outside limit of an object, area, or surface; a place or part farthest away from the center of something. I took this photo on a train climbing a mountain. The river looks as if it is at the edge of the track. I probably slanted my mobile phone camera quite steeply or perhaps the climb was rather steep. We went up to 7000 ft and then descended to around 4000 ft to stay in a very scenic town and ski resort. When I first discovered that we were to climb 7000 ft in a train I was a bit concerned. I wondered how it would be like cutting through the mountain with a steep edge on the side of the track. As we settled ourselves in very comfortable coaches and started taking photos we hardly noticed the climb. It was very pleasant and the edge was not noticeable at that time. Only when I now look at the photos and recall the scenes I marvel at how we can always look at the positive side of things and enjoy lives despite the environment. A merry heart does have its edge over a miserable heart in challenging circumstances.
Mirror a wordless reflection one morning in winter. Wordless beauty.
Looking at this today brings back long gone memory of a time when he first had a glimpse of her in the mirror. She was getting ready to go to work. He watched her at the door. He could only see her back. But then he saw her smiling in the mirrored reflection. She has her way of smiling which captures heart. Many years ago. Sparkling eyes smiling. He never forgets that smile. Wordless and yet beautiful. He cannot forget.
Mirror here is a sky I like, a mirrored sky beautifully set in water.
my front yard’s sunset floating
I took this photo on 20151229 again in a hurry one evening in California. The place is a must see site because of its famous reflection of beautiful and colorful houses on water. The panoramic view did not turn out well as I was using an older Samsung then. But the static single shots were good. This one is my favorite. Will I want to live in one of these mirrored watery homes? My answer is, “No, thank you.” I still love my own little park with the trees mirroring my life as they stretch upward towards the blue sky where eagles soar.
Yes, you are rare. In my eyes. Today, I walk pass this way without expecting to see you. I am just walking and not looking. I am busy because I am going somewhere. This pathway and roadside are just things I happen to walk by from one spot to another spot. My destination is somewhere else. My interest is not here. I am just traveling by. But I see you. You look at me and smile. You reach out your invisible hand and offer a friendly greeting. Here, this neighborhood? Yes, you stand out despite the environment. The background. The class in which you find yourself. You display your purple. We exchange greeting for a while and I halt my steps for you for awhile. When I move on I know I have encountered a unique rarity. A simple greeting one morning between a traveler and a sidewalk on which I have imprinted my steps one morning which will not be repeated again. The next time I visit this place again it will be another time. A moment in time is rare and unique with its own existence.
not knowing one day
life’s spotlight finds him so fine
This picture was taken two days before I left the country in February this year. It was a cool morning and I walked alone on this familiar road probably one last time for a long time to come. I had stayed for half a year in this neighborhood and it had become my routine to take a morning walk in the cool, fresh air. The photo was taken with a Samsung Galaxy, nothing fancy. Winter was mild and comfortable. I normally do not like heavy clothing unless I travel to the snow countries. I just returned from one before I took this shot. Somehow this ordinary grayish morning with the sun coming out against the silhouette of trees, (as I walked alone on a quiet and still road), gives me a perspective I like best. It is just another easy and breezy morning. People are still sleeping or getting ready to go somewhere. No one seems in a hurry. The noisy and busy world is some distance away. I am traveling home shortly and yet the frantic packing does not deter me from this leisurely unhurried walk. As I meet one or two early birds who are walking solo too, or working in their gardens, we smile briefly and say to each other, “Good morning!” Then each of us carry on walking or doing our morning chores, each to our respective destination. As I write this my heart is filled with thankfulness for another day alive and well in this world.
Good morning to you, my friend, who reads this today! I pray you are well!
easy breezy morn’
casual stroll on garden’s lawn
hearing unseen fawn
I took this picture last September in a small scenic town in California. Morning walk was often full of surprises. One of the many pleasant encounters was little animals. Yes, even fawns.
This dawning alone
flying solo not forlorn
painting world beyond
This picture is unedited. I used a Samsung Galaxy and set the scene at dawn. It came out like a painted picture. The bird at the right corner is a bonus. We never know what we shall get in life until we receive them. There is a gap between getting and receiving. I receive this picture without much effort. I woke up and thought it would be a good idea to take a picture of the scene outside my hotel and WhatsApp to my friend. And here is the picture. (Reduced from the original) A good start for the day!
honor glory thanks
in accord they sang
colors green and blue
always your favorite so true
a dress for my heart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~He remembers her in her blue and green dress. She dresses well. The colors of nature: the green grass, green plants, green trees, and the blue sea, blue mountain, blue sky. Often there is white space in between, like a white canvas background on which an artist has gently and richly added splashes of the colors of his heart, the blue and the green. Blue is for spirit. Green is for life. Spirit and Life. His love is so beautiful, filled with life and spirit.
Verses: John 6:63 New Living Translation (NLT)
63 The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life.
opening the heart
seeing beauty in plain sight
gold and rare delight
~~~~~~~~Seeing is not longer difficult for a traveler with a heart. He sees things differently. The field. The sky. The plants. The clouds. The water. The light. The colors. Dawn. Noon. Sunset. Rain or shine. Seasons. Structure and organization of matters. Even the unseen wind caught between the twigs and leafy green. The entangled variety of shapes and sounds of nature mingled with manmade work. Although he sits on the upper level with panoramic view through huge glass windows, he does not really have that much of flexibility to move from place to place to capture the various scenes which are swiftly passing both sides of the train. Still, admittedly this train journey is worth the price and time. He now understands why a thirteen year old kid who likes to write poetry prefers to ride an hour on a bus on her way home from school instead of taking the mere eight minutes subway. His friends worry that he may find it too long and too tedious riding a train for two and half days. But he feels as if he is very very young again and in Europe when he traveled alone and on his carefree way to see the world. He was without worry then. This time it is different because he does have a burden in his heart. He is meeting someone at the end of the journey. He enjoys planting. He knows the law of planting. Planting the wind will harvest the whirlwind. Planting good solid seed will harvest good fruit. This is the principle to build the foundation for a relationship. Yes, the condition of the soil matters. The heart is the field with the soil. He feels thankful he has opened his heart and love again. No, it is not someone new. This is an old (not chronologically) love. The one love of his life.
“Still other seed fell on fertile soil. This seed grew and produced a crop that was a hundred times as much as had been planted!” (Luke 8:8) “Whoever comes to Me, and hears My sayings and does them, I will show you whom he is like: He is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently against that house, and could not shake it, for it was founded on the rock.” (Luke 6:47-48)
waving grinning wide
faithful greeting by roadside
winter soon here bye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Trees are my friends. These two are sort of cute, with their rather unusual rust-brown color and the way they lean toward the road with their almost identical formation of branches and clusters of leaves, making me wonder if a hairdresser for trees has done their coiffure. How did they grow to be so alike? Have they decided to dress alike for autumn? I marvel. Many years ago I used to jog in a reservoir park and on one occasion I saw a fallen tree. It used to stand alone by the side of the lake. Sometimes a lone bird perched on its rather tired looking branch. But that morning it was lying on the ground, toppled by the previous night’s storm. I went closer and saw that its centre was hollow. How could that be? How long did it try to remain standing and faithfully greeted me (and other joggers) daily while struggling with a hollow heart? But this pair are thankfully together and they look thrivingly young. I hope they will last a long long time. I like the way they stand out with their heads stubbornly full of hair (leaves) among all the others who have shed their leaves and become bald (bare) in a season of despair.
a tree and her shade label
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Walking in hot sun requires plenty of shady spots to rest. Here is one of my favorite spots. Near Autumn but there is still plenty of green. The sun can get quite unbearable and one has to fortify oneself with a hat/cap, at least a bottle of plain water, and of course a mobile phone (camera). But the shades are very useful. They are not the trees. They reflect what the trees are like. Usually in a stretching and exaggerating way. Shades stretch the truth somewhat depending on the location of the sun. Sometimes some creatures like birds or squirrels may be hiding up the trees and their shadows appear as parts of the shades. Rare but it could happen. Trees and shades are certainly very rewarding to a traveler.
He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.”
a fine day unfolds
meeting green friends light refreshed
~~~~~~~~~~~~Nature often brings pleasant surprises. A casual walk under the sun may bring you to another world. Like this picture. We are taken to a tour at the dam to see fishermen fishing and making of fish paste. But the other side of the dam is lined with lush green countryside. Very refreshing walk indeed. It is like a part of our normal ordinary mundane life which is hidden quietly somewhere suddenly emerges and shouts, “Voilà, Lo, there it is, see here!” The beauty of creation unfolds so unassumingly even at a poor outback place like this.
The wilderness and the wasteland shall be glad for them,
And the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose;
It shall blossom abundantly and rejoice,
Even with joy and singing.
The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,
The excellence of Carmel and Sharon.
They shall see the glory of the LORD,
The excellency of our God.
(Bible verses quoted from Isaiah 35:1-2)
with my hands lifted
i share my thoughts in my days
see my signs i say
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nature has its way of expression. So do men. Some words cannot be expressed adequately with mere audible sound. Some are meant to show with other means: see, touch, feel, perceive, and participate in. Does nature have a way of communicating? I believe all living things do. Even trees. Often I look at the trees and the way they point with their branches. The shapes and directions they point. It is like they are showing something, making a statement. Human has increasingly used new ways to communicate. If we look at the activities we do mostly these days we can see how deep we are in relentlessly communicating in silence. Like nature does.
they burst out living
turning this corner walking
winter spring in all
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Just before he leaves this place he walks round to see if there is any moment of joy and hope he can capture and send to her. Someone says that even in winter some trees will bloom if there is sunshine for a few days. He has prayed and the sun has come out. So he braves the cold and goes out to say goodbye to the wind and trees. He always looks for pictures of moments of beauty and hope. Because he knows it matters. Life matters. Here they are-lives bursting out even behind a fence. A neighbor’s garden of hope.
You are my hiding place and my shield;
I hope in Your word.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
a day we gather
this shore and beyond we dream
daring to venture
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~All three of us together. It is rare. Because we depend on our human friends to bring us here for the fresh air and smell of the marks left behind by other living things, mainly dogs like us. Sometimes an occasional bird may venture here, but it is rather rare. We don’t talk among ourselves. As you will see, we each seem preoccupied with the sand or living creatures hidden inside. Who are they? What are they doing here? We love mysteries. We seek things out. We find them. O yes we like each other’s company too. I mean dogs. What a fine day this is! A day to dream and celebrate just being here. Free and unhurried. Away from the crowd (human) for some moments of our own.
The world is not small
for all creatures in the wild
free to roam and soar
~~~~~~~~~~~~I long for freedom. I am a small dog. My owner is very protective because he ties me up when he visits a pub to quench his thirst and meet others like him. So I wait and wait. Someone comes and takes my portrait. I turn the other side so he cannot have a good picture of me. I am smart you know. My owner (or rather a human who feeds me) stays with me. He keeps me clean and warm. He goes to work and comes home and makes sure I know I can wait and not in vain. But still I worry a bit. What if he doesn’t come home? What if he drinks himself to sleep like in this pub and leaves me outside in the cold? What if some bigger dogs come along and start bullying me? Life is so uncertain for a small dog alone like me.
A beautiful day
smells of sea creatures abound
freedom on this shore
~~~~~~~~~~~~~A dog’s life is enviable to human. Like all other living creatures, I am not naturally bound in the wild. But some of us look for friendship with human. Sometimes I may feel obligated to please the one who feeds me. But generally I can remain free inside unless grossly mistreated by the owner (or any human) who tries to manipulate me instead of treating me as a trusted friend. On a fine day many owners bring out their dogs and walk around here. The owners compare notes. We dogs too. Sometimes we wish human see the looks in the eyes of some of us who are hurting.
’tis uncertain way
nature breaks for lunch in sky
know not where she strays
~~~~~~~~~~~~~Writing a haiku using another picture of a passenger on the road viewing from a car window is a further tough lesson today. What can the traveler see? What is on his mind? Haiku in its original Japanese form is mainly (if not all) about nature (including seasons). Although I am not writing in its original language, I do try to adhere to its root of descriptive form with a tinge of feeling/mood/thought hidden in between the lines. By adding a picture or rather basing my haiku words on a picture I have limited myself and yet expanded myself. In today’s picture, the activities are in the sky. The clouds are captured with great detail occupying the centre and bulk of the sky canvas. But the little bit of blue sky is beautiful on its own like it is not concerned with the majority participants on the same canvas. It looks like serene clear water with equally tranquil white islands floating by. What is the mood my haiku reflecting? As stated in the title, a passenger’s mood. I am going somewhere and am thinking of my destination. Traffic is clear. But the sky has this looming gray cloud. Is it going to rain? I don’t quite look forward to a delay if that happens. But the natural elements flow by their own pattern over which I have no control. In a picture and a few words, this haiku has thus attempted to present a rich variety of activities and moods in heaven and on earth. For a haiku lover, you will understand what I am trying to share. Thank you for coming by.
waking his mind takes
333 her time calling
car view of a lake
`~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~a haiku often depicts a momentary scene. Like this view of a lake when he wakes at his own time at 5:33am. But her time is only 3:33pm on a previous day.The international dateline has separated the two time zones. In crossing to this time zone he has lost one day. Has he really lost? No. when he first flew there he crossed the dateline and gained one day. So over the six months he was there he was living in yesterday. Now he is back to the future, always a day ahead of her. Like Doc Brown in Back to the Future, he sometimes toyed with the idea of staying in the yesterday’s time zone so he could live near his Daisy (as in The Great Gatsby) or school teacher Clara (as in Back to the Future). In Back to the Future Part III (1990),Marty returns to 1985 without Doc Brown, who stayed behind with Clara in 1885. Here is an excerpt of the last scene:
“He worries that Doc has been lost in the past forever, when suddenly Doc Brown appears in a new time machine, modeled after a locomotive. He introduces Jennifer and Marty to Clara (to whom he is now married) and his two sons, Jules and Verne. When Marty asks if Doc and his family are going to the future, Doc replies that he’s “already been there.” Doc’s last words of wisdom is that nobody knows their future, so they “must make it a good one.” The locomotive flies across the sky and disappears, ending the trilogy.” A pretty good ending.
Whilst looking forward to seeing a fourth movie of this series, this traveler knows that it would not be without the Marty McFly character played by Michael J. Fox. On the other hand, the original Indiana Jones is coming back. Ford’s age: 73 at the moment, 77 when the movie will be released in late summer 2019.
A quote: “We love Ford for his slow, sly grin and his easy loping; for his faint, distrait air of not wanting to be there. He forever gives the wearied impression of not desiring to fritter his time away on this kind of claptrap – always an inherently elderly attribute, even when he was young.”
Like Ford, the haiku-writing-traveler knows his own inherent wearied youthfulness, preference for the faint and distract air of the unassuming bystander and not wanting to be in the forefront of each melodramatic action-ignited scene.
Ocean shifted house
billowing waves right above
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~In the geographical terrain where the traveler now stations on this globe he sees a different sky. Another shade of blue color. Another formation of clouds. Another regiment of trees. Same globe but different. The waves of the ocean sky are different. The foams are different. Often it makes him think of how a tiny globe can have such a rich variety of colors, shades, shapes, forms, textures, tints, tones, patterns, habitat, living creatures, sounds, tastes, smells, tunes, depths, widths, heights, breadths, smiles, laughs, eyes, skins, hair, fingers, feet, babies, wind, breezes, streets, lanes, paths, roads, waysides, hills, rivers, streams, mountains, valleys, cliffs, rocks, pebbles, shores, marshlands, nests, eggs, twigs, branches, buds, flowers, plants, trees, bushes, grass, fishes, dogs and cats, snow and falls, seasons and weather. The list is in-exhaustive. There is no lack of topics for a haiku-writing traveler to record, report, and write. Compared to perhaps another habitable planet somewhere in another remote universe, this earth garden is not doing too bad in the richness in varieties. In a way, this reflects the human soul. There is no lack of the richness in varieties and peculiarities rich display of which he often takes a snapshot and jots down lest he may forget when he next comes this way.
Quotation from the Bible: Psalm 46:2-4 New Living Translation (NLT)
2 So we will not fear when earthquakes come
and the mountains crumble into the sea.
3 Let the oceans roar and foam.
Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge! Interlude
4 A river brings joy to the city of our God,
the sacred home of the Most High.
No cold snow at best
flying through ocean to nest
rocky shore for rest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I see these cute birds in the enclosure. They do not need ice. They are from a warm country. A big strong male stands as guard. Couples of smaller ones make their own individual homes in the rocky caves. There are babies too. what surprises me is they are from Africa and there is no ice required in their home. The name of penguin always makes me imagine an icy cold place like the poles. How little I know about some birds and their Creator. Another thing that attracts me is that they seem to live in pairs. They are not alone.
An excerpts on the the African penguins:
Not all penguins live in snow and ice—African penguins live in cold currents along the coast of South Africa. They’re agile and graceful under water. Using their wings as flippers and their feet as rudders, they “fly” through the water fast enough to chase down schools of cape anchovy and other small fishes.
To keep warm in the cold water, African penguins have a double layer of insulation: densely packed feathers over a soft layer of down. On land, they face the opposite problem; they can overheat in hot sun. To keep their cool, they pant and pump blood to parts of their bodies with less insulation—their wings, faces and feet—where excess heat can escape.
Although all penguins are protected from hunting and egg collecting, many, including the African, face threats from oil pollution, habitat loss, introduced predators and overfishing.
Penguins make good parents. They often keep the same mate for life, and both parents take turns incubating the eggs and feeding and protecting their chicks.
Wild penguins eat close to 14 percent of their body weight each day. For a 150-pound (68-kg) person, that would be like eating 21 pounds (9.5 kg) of food a day!
(2016 Monterey Bay Aquarium Foundation)
16 “Search from the book of the Lord, and read:
Not one of these shall fail;
Not one shall lack her mate.
For My mouth has commanded it, and His Spirit has gathered them.
(Isaiah 34:16 New King James Version)
Nothing to declare
fearing to share what forbear
stripping his heart bare
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The clouds often speak volumes. He likes to watch and record clouds. Clouds actually have mouths and eyes and they talk to each other with their eyes open and mouths shaped like a gentle smile. They are different from human. In the ancient times human lived simple and humble lives, aligned with the laws and wisdom of nature set by the Creator. They watched the signs in heaven and made their moves accordingly. They watched, smelled, tasted and listened to the visual and audio movements and sounds of the sky, the formation of clouds, the leaves and branches of trees, the structure and pattern of rocks, the colors of water, the voices of creatures, birds, insects, fishes and other living things in the wild. Human talked with their own language too. They communicated with purpose. They did not waste their voice. Often they uttered to warn, to reprimand, to guide, to build up. People’s lives depended on the right vocal utterance from the leader of the house or a tribe. Those were the days of survival in the wild. Human did not kill the wild for commercial reason. They survived for thousands of years with the wild things. Man who killed for his own commercial greed was outcast and despised by all and never considered a hero unlike what the movie may say today.