Fragments of the Past Haibun

Today you are you!
That is truer than true!
There is no one alive who is you-er than you!

~ Dr Seuss

Used with kind permission of Ese at Ese's Voice

Used with kind permission of Ese at Ese’s Voice

We leave traces of ourselves for the future to discover, to know us from the fragments. My mother left me her diamond ring, her sewing machine, a scarf from Paris, her bible and a memory of love. Her love provided my place in the world, surrounding me with a sense of safety so deep I took it completely for granted. I had slid into place in her love with a click that still rings in my ears. I didn’t even realize what I had until it was gone, leaving its place in my heart empty, like an underground cave echoing the booming of the sea. When I lost her, my father created a new place for me in a new family, and I appreciate his doing that, but I never regained that deep sense of security or felt the click as I slid into my place.

I have tried to recreate that security for my family. For my kids, my man and myself. I hope they take their love and safety for granted, because then I know I’m succeeding. In my turn, I will leave my mother’s diamond and her sewing machine, with which I sewed their baby blankets. Perhaps I will leave some other fragments which are mine alone, not least my love. I am me, and she is me. Perhaps my words will linger.

one or two jewels
our connection to the past
left for the future

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by Haibun Thinking Week 6, the Seuss prompt in honor of his upcoming birthday and Ese’s Voice’s haibun picture prompt.

Trumpets Sounding: American Haiku

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purple trumpets joyfully welcome spring, frantic sunshine music

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This is my second ever American Haiku. I still have a few posts left to make from my warm vacation. Tomorrow we have a snowstorm due. 🙂 The American Haiku or American Sentence form was created by Allen Ginsberg, who brought it away from nature toward our modern, urban lifestyle and left it high and dry on one line, as more similar to the original haiku form, which was not broken into lines. My first is Silent Bathhouse.

Ending Vacation Haiku

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fading afternoon
vacation memories stored
moss darkens the day

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Knots Haiku

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interconnected
twisted up and intertwined
family

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Rain Dragon Haiku

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proud snapdragons
bow and dance with raindrops
tasting clouds

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

 

Joy Radiates Haiku

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joy radiates
in all directions at once
vacation week

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Hope you are all having great weeks!

Warmly, Brenda

Vacation Dreaming Haibun

Used with kind permission of Arthur Browne via Haibun Thinking

Used with kind permission of Arthur Browne via Haibun Thinking

When I know a vacation is coming, I build castles in the sky of what amazing adventures are coming. Being a perfectionist, I imagine how it could be perfect, and work toward making it so, and worry about all the things that could go wrong.

My daughter was puking up her guts, going through copious bedding as the waves came, and then seemed to abate, and then returned, all through a very long night. The next day, Friday, was the last day of school before vacation week, and my older son tossed his cookies at school (yes, another vomiting euphemism).

Meanwhile, my laptop’s hard drive’s ever increasing crashing turned out to be its death throes. All weekend, I rotated the laundry and worked toward getting a new hard drive, integration of a new operating system and retrieval of all my work.

Still, I found time to continue dreaming of palm trees, blue skies, warm breezes and perfect, lazy vacation days. A snowstorm came through, dumping six inches. My kids were puking, the snow was falling, and my laptop was in the shop. And yes, I continued to aspire to the perfect vacation, especially while shoveling or driving to the apple store.

hope does not tire
dreams never leave
vacation, will come

Miraculously, vacation did arrive, a few days late. Saturday: endless snow, struggling with data retrieval, fighting off my own fever, preparing lots of invalid food. Sunday: on the phone with apple support for hours, successfully retrieved my data despite the backup partially failing, then ran a new backup for 12 hours. Monday: packing frantically, departing for the airport, long pacing at Newark Airport waiting for our connecting flight, getting in very late, exhausted kids and parents.

Here it is Tuesday, and we have lounged by the pool, seen lizards on palm trees, and drank champagne (ok, not the kids). We managed to get here in time for the best weather all week.

dreams blossom
green fronds unfold in sun
paradise found

Palm Tree Orlando Florida

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by the Haibun Thinking prompt and the photograph above by Arthur Browne.

Traveling Haiku

Newark Airport 2014

Newark layover
pacing, dreaming of palm trees
sun sets slowly

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Music in the Soul Haibun

Music in the soul can be heard by the universe. 
— Lao Tzu

Violin with Roses Black and White

When my oldest was an active, playful 18 month old, he asked: “Can I play violin?” That was one of his first full sentences.

We did not have a violin or piano in our home. I wondered how he knew what a violin was. I asked around, and other moms told me that children as young as three study violin. No one else I spoke to had a child asking to play an instrument.

During that time, we moved and I had our second son. When my oldest was three, I met a woman in my yoga class who was beginning a new group of 3- and 4-year old violin students in the fall. I asked her if I should take seriously his request despite his young age, and she said yes, of course.

I remember sitting outside in the sunshine on my deck, when I told my three-year old son that I was going to take him to see a lesson if he still wanted to learn. He said: “Mom, I’m sorry I’ve been so mean to you lately.” I was silenced.

My eldest sat calmly on my lap for 45 minutes listening to a chaotic double lesson with two siblings just back from a summer music camp in Colorado. He said not a word and barely moved, which was not his normal behavior at all. Eventually the teacher turned to me, and she said: “I forgot you were here, he was so quiet. That’s a very long time for a child his age, you don’t need to stay to the end.”

My son climbed down, walked up to the teacher and said: “That was the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard.” He had never heard live violin music before.

intense green eyes
unwavering on the strings
hearing with his whole being

My husband I had never studied music. Nine years after deciding to honor my young son’s wishes, my oldest and youngest play violin, my second son plays cello and drums, and all three play piano. My husband and I have learned some violin and piano as adults. In our house, we have three violins, a cello, a digital piano, a Yamaha piano, a marimba, a saxophone, a trumpet, an acoustic guitar, a sanza, a variety of drums, a cymbal. We have all played music together in several concerts.

The kids now see music as part of our lives. They are talented singers, in chorus and musicals, in addition to playing in orchestras. All three of my children make up their own songs and improvise by preference. Music has become part of the fabric of our souls. Perhaps it always was.

steel strings ring
my soul expands with each note
vibrating

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by the Weekly Ligo Haibun Challenge prompt, this one providing the quote at the top.

Winter Reverie Haiku

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dancing light
penetrating the dark places
reverie on joy

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Goodbye Hope: a Monody Haībun

Last night in my email, was another writer’s bane, the let-you-down-gently words that sink in like thorns. I didn’t have high hopes, how can one in my place?  I have time for writing, time for dreams, time for children-rearing, but no time for marketing.

Another so kind rejection in the mail.
How can I go on when to go on is to fail?
It’s nicely worded, not harsh at all,
And yet, it’s kind words hurt like an icy fall.
Why do I need for my words to be heard?
Why not chirp quietly on a branch like a bird?
Oh, hope, so fragile, so easily flown away,
Will you come back soon, stay for another day?

Why do any of us write? We have words inside us, needing to come out. It’s that simple. When my boys hit age three, they had to run. They ran and ran, circling me like dolphins around a boat, chirping and loving, laughing and falling. They ran because they had to, and I did not stop them. I tried to keep them safe.

Can I parent myself, the young writer? How would I do that? I know I need to write, and so I will. I will let myself write, and as I send my words into the world, I will try to keep myself safe.

Not everyone has to like what I wrote. I write for my own reasons, and I share magic and joy where I can. Even if only one person is touched, has a better day, feels the magic, then that’s enough. My work is enough. My words are enough. I will keep sending my words into the world.

As for my kind rejecter, I will smile, and I will remember that that person’s day is too long, too busy, too full to take on my words. That’s okay. She has a busy life, too, and only so many hours in it.

sycamore grows in summer
its roots leave words in the soil
the leaves read the shining sun

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Note: A Monody is a lament, a dirge or an elegy for someone or something departed. A Haibun is prose, culminating in poetry, with its heart beating in the natural world. This was partly inspired by a series of recent rejections, by the weekly poetry prompt by painttheworldwithwords to write a monody and by the weekly Haībun Thinking prompt, with a freestyling example by Al.

References:
http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/monody.html
http://painttheworldwithwords.wordpress.com/2014/02/11/poetic-form-of-the-week-monody/

Warm Embrace Haiku

Winter Sunshine

winter sunshine
hug reaches through the trees
embraced by the universe

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham