Rain at Night

This is what I have heard at last the wind in December lashing the old trees with rain unseen rain racing along the tiles under the moon wind rising and falling wind with many clouds trees in the night wind after an age of leaves and feathers someone dead thought of this mountain as money and cut the trees that were here in the wind in the rain at night it is hard to say it but they cut the sacred 'ohias then the sacred koas then the sandalwood and the halas holding aloft their green fires and somebody dead turned cattle loose among the stumps until killing time but the trees have risen one more time and the night wind makes them sound like the sea that is yet unknown the black clouds race over the moon the rain is falling on the last place —W.S. Merwin, from The Rain in the Trees, 1988 1 note

Water Heartache — In a Good Way!

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.” —Margaret Atwood

Wow. I came across this quote this morning. It really hit me in the sweetest spot. . . My 2-d art work almost always incorporates a sense of water — the life-giving substance that gives, and takes away. What a powerful bit of awareness to start my day. 

Haiku for Springtime in North Carolina

The green forest leaves'
Confetti celebration
Whispers love and light.

Colorado Love

Colorado makes
me feel
                        
grounded.


The earth

                  up
reaches
to meet me.

Thunder Head

Little water bombs —
Coordinated attack
Diving toward earth.

. . . . .

I’ve been on a haiku kick for the past few days. I used to write them constantly, and recently found some of the old ones. I’ve been inspired to start writing them again.

Pencil Poem

This is probably my most favorite haiku-inspired poem that I’ve written to date.

For late night writing
A pencil is better.
It’s marks are not so permanent.

Travel Haiku

Fight motion sickness

Sitting in an airplane seat

Three days in a row

Haiku from an L.A. Neighborhood

Walking down the street—

Astute observer yells out,

“You are a white girl!”