Postcard Haiku 1

postcard 2s

I’ve been doing some postcards in combination with the Collage Box and its Oracle.  For this one, I took a postcard of Van Gogh’s “The Seine with the Pont de la Grande Jutte” and added a few elements and a poem.

constructed out of
the shadows–transparent soul–
my body here undone

Also linking to Open Link Night on dVerse, hosted by Grace.

October 2019

oct grid scan s

For my grid this month I decided to try something different–I consulted the collage box oracle for the haiku and incorporated the words into the grid.  I tried both photographing and scanning it, but neither exactly captured the colors–they had a strange red cast.  I had a little better luck adjusting them in Photoshop with the scanned image, above.

who you are connects
the transit of where you are
to the shape of next

I’m also linking this to Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, poet’s choice of words.

oct 19 grid s

I’m finally seeing some yellow leaves on the street trees outside this morning.  But tomorrow is supposed to be 90 degrees…

harvest moon 2

harvest moon 2 close up s

we are led not by
lines, but by circles—fullness
returning, renewed

For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #104, harvest moon.

harvest moon 2s

My internet was out for about 12 hours and there’s evidently a problem with the cable in the wall–so I can’t guarantee my presence on a day to day basis.  But it’s working for the moment, and maybe my luck will hold.

 

9/11

 

jizo s

For 9/11, I’ve chosen my embroidery of Jizo, the Japanese god who helps to heal hearts and lives in times of darkness and grief.

Jizo personifies the Bodhisattva Vow to save all beings from suffering.  He works especially to save the souls of children who have died before their parents.  In Japan, stone Jizo statues are often adorned with children’s clothing and surrounded by offerings of flowers and toys, both as protection for a dead child and in gratitude for the saving of a child’s life.

Jizo is guardian of mothers, children, travelers, pilgrims, and–very appropriately to this day of remembering–firemen.

leaves rattle like bones
through bottomless clarity–
azure autumn sky

 

This is a reblog of my very first 9/11 post in 2014, adding the haiku from my post in 2017, which echoes always my memories of that morning here in NYC.