tangled rose vines
dreaming of spring sunshine
showing thorns
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Sunshine writes on each leaf
In a language I cannot read.
Nature connects to me, is my belief,
Granting succor, solace: things I need.
Golden leaves have much to say,
Dappled by daylight, joyful, calm.
Cheer and peace are mine today;
Nature’s beauty provide the balm.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
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.
Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.
— Lao Tzu
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.
There is no key to happiness.
The door is always open.
— Mother Teresa
Love comes to the door,
Peeking through the keyhole
Slipping through the letterbox,
Making its demands,
Leaving footprints on your clean floor.
Life is never the same.
Happiness follows with friends:
Laughter, feelings of flying,
Stomach turns somersaults,
Spinning in dizzy, dancing circles.
Then those friends grow up with you,
Happiness turning into contentment,
Laughter growing into smiles.
Spinning somersaults drift into a slow waltz.
Love settles into sharing and commiserations galore.
First our hearts are on our sleeves,
And then they are on our door.
In secret, they flutter still, quietly.
The sound of a roughened voice,
The slide of stubble against a smooth cheek.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Happy Valentine’s Day !!
To all those who love and are loved, whatever makes your heart flutter,
It’s a day to pause and be grateful for those tiny wings. 🙂
Warmly, Brenda