Silent as Dust Falling

For the Tuesday Platform at Real Toads.

Silent as Dust Falling
“Maybe that’s enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go. -Anthony Bourdain”

I lay on the sand
gazing up at the stars.
No ambient light –
just the stars above me.
I realize that when I am wiser
I will seek out these places of solitude,
the bowl of simple noodles in broth,
the tree in the middle of the forest.
I will find peace in the stars above me,
peace in the loneliness of the desert,
peace in the middle of the noisy rowdy city.
Listening to the waves whispering
is the only music I need –
The rain tapping the leaves,
the snow falling silent as dust,
the leaf falling from the tree,
the songs the stars sing as they travel through the darkness,
I breathe deeply, quietly
not wanting to disturb the music.

copyright kanzensakura

Red is the color of peace

For Paul’s prompt at Real Toads about Peace.  This is an old poem previously posted but reworked and tightened up a bit.  I truly believe that we carry peace around with us, that it must be found within and shared out like excess red tomatoes from my garden.

copyright kanzensakura

 

Red is the color of peace
Peace comes in many colors – like the rainbow,
like us humans or animals or flowers.
You may not think so, but red is the color of peace –
the tomato plucked from the bounty of my backyard garden
and handed over the short fence to the neighbor next door –
red of holly berries nestled among dark green clusters
of leaves hidden deep in the forest, with white snow
softly falling or the cardinal perched on the branch –
The red of maple leaves preparing for winter sleep
or the red of the rose given to a beloved.
Long blondeblackbrownred braids tied at the ends
with perky red bows.
Red is the color of peace – of units of blood donated
for someone about to undergo life saving surgery
for the child with cancer
or the service  person needing
emergency treatment.
The wild apples are red and hang down far enough
a herd of deer can satisfy their hunger.
Red are the azaleas planted by my father years ago
that continue to bloom after all this time.
Strawberries from my garden are rich and red and sweet.
Red is also the color in the jars of preserves
I make and give out as gifts to anyone.
Red is my generations old flowering quince
blooming in a freezing snow.
The heart your child drew and the words “I Love You”
hangs with pride on your refrigerator door
photographed and posted on Facebook so everyone would know
– drawn with a bright red crayon.
Peace is what we make it and it is colored by our souls,
our hearts our words and actions.
If our words and actions do not speak of peace and hope
how can we be peace and hope to a world
sadly in need of both?
You may not think so, but red is the color of peace.

copyright kanzensakura

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Food – a haibun

A haibun for the Tuesday Platform at Real Toads.

Food – A Haibun
I don’t often write about when I was a chef. But my love affair with food is still running wild and unfettered. The fields of produce, the trees with fruit, the bakeries and butchers – all of them still lead me ever onward. We all have a comfort food, the food that says home or safe place or happiness. I know I do and the list grows longer every year. The feel in my hand of a warm freshly picked tomato or an egg still warm from the body of the hen sends a frisson of comfort down to my toes. The smell of my father’s fried chicken still lingers years after he died, the taste of a sharp acidic North Carolina tomato makes me almost orgasm when I taste it for the first time in summer, the taste of butter on bread or slurping a long noodle out of broth, stuffing a burrito into my mouth, or eating a big bun full of barbecue makes me happy in a way I cannot describe.

Food is what brings us together. It also separates us but food at its basic level brings us together. What we fix for someone tells us a lot about us to the person eating our food. We always give our best when we fix food for someone else; the food may be biscuits and gravy or Beluga caviar on toast points or fried rice or carne asada – it doesn’t matter. On some level I think we want to show off but on another, I think we want to say to the other person: “This is me. Please accept me.” I never refuse anything I am offered or say, I don’t eat that. I believe when we do that we are rejecting the person or culture offering the bite. I wish we could all sit around a huge table and share the food of our wealth, our poverty, our happiness, our grief. Pass the plates one to another, look each other in the eyes.  If we can’t do that then I feel we are all of us are well and truly lost.

seasons changing –
water to wine to juice –
we all are one

public domain

Planting

For Jilly’s Prompt over at dVerse Poets Pub – Getting Wild.

Planting
In the wildness of nature,
I become peaceful
and happy and full of joy.
Stepping in furrows of a newly plowed field
I drop seeds or plants.
I watch the birds in the sky
and wait for the first bit of green to show.
I plant extra for the birds and
the other critters.
In the wildness of the city
I get quiet and move carefully
as if passing by hungry feral beasts.
I’ll take the trees and corn over the
buildings any day.

pinterest image

Instagram Poem

Today at Real Toads is Tuesday Platform. Sanaa is Suggesting instagram sized poems. So here we go for day 24 of Nannumope. This is also posted for Poets United Mid-week Motif – Summer.

the full moon flutters
on the surface of the pond
lone cicada sings

Leaf Hagaki

Today is Quadrille Monday at dVerse.  What is a Quadrille?  It is a form unique to dVerse Poets pub consisting of exactly 44 words (excluding the title) and the chosen word.  Today Victoria is in charge of the Pub and has given us the word “poem” or variants of the word.  Come join us for these lovely short poems.

public domain image

Leaf Hagaki*
I carefully prick one word poems
on fallen leaves, letting the wind
take them where it will –
Postcards of joy, love, tolerance, hope.
I don’t expect a reply
but I let them loose anyway.
The silence between the falling of the leaves
is deafening.

* hagaki – Japanese for fragments of writing or postcards

 

Crayola Dawn

I am posting this on dVerse Poets Pub for De’s lovely prompt on Quadrille Monday. She requests that we use the word “dream” – dreamer, dreams, dreaming, dreamed – make the noun a verb or the verb a noun – it’s all good! A quadrille is a poetic form that came about a couple of years ago when we were making changes to refresh the Poets Pub. the form has exactly 44 words not counting the title. You must include the prompted word in your poem.  Come read these wonderful humming bird tiny poems. I am also posting this to Real Toads Tuesday Platform.  Here are the links for both:  http://dversepoets.com/2017/08/14/quadrille-38/   and  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-tuesday-platform_15.html

Crayola Dawn
I see the dawn before the rest
of the world awakens.
I came to this dawn through the moonlight
of my dreams.
I dream of the world in argent shades
and awaken to the Crayola dawn –
It is cool this morning.
I am at peace.

copyright kanzensakura

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