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.
I’m finally seeing some yellow leaves on the street trees outside this morning. But tomorrow is supposed to be 90 degrees…
coming meets going–
the borders of transition
angled in new light
For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge #105, September Equinox.
we are led not by
lines, but by circles—fullness
For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #104, harvest moon.
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.
sky clouds rain and wind–
lush vortex spins, releasing
the unheld center
For Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge #103. The subject is windstorm.
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.
covered with voices
songs like the rattle of bones
a chorus of leaves
mirroring the wind
spiraling dances transformed
with patterns winging
newly colored hours
stillness in constant motion
shadowing the light
My September grid, and an autumn contemplation for Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge 102.
The elements are turning.
A haiga using synonyms for Colleen’s #tankaTuesday words, character and wild.
Anmol at dVerse has us thinking about fe/lines.
lines untamed, perfect,
compose themselves fluidly
in pure cattitude