Venus Nova

One of the more personal pieces, this one – published four times during my mid-90s poetic phase. Learning last year of Majken’s early passing made sharing it here … inevitable.

She is missed.

***

New-grieving baby self:
early warning genius
Invisible fear heralds discovery
Recent turns must lead somewhere
Converse, converge – something fused overnight
This morning room a darkened cloister
as he knows I don’t

Walk now
Tree of flame, sear away blindness
Sky, Buddha-still, uncloud my vision
See houses? breathless eyes feel them!

Know now, cut flower in water
Grow through nourishing Earth, weaned too young
Pathfinder, focus awareness, energy, acceptance
Ritual bonding

See now
model’s forced smile, numbed eyes
father’s bearded face, experience lines
Nature molting, ready to rest
my daughter seeing

Hear now
massaging waves, leaves in cycle
soothing chorus of wings
Gaia rejoices – echo me!

Feel now
open breath smile body
free to converse – what strangers?
erotic life-giving creative
Closed eyes embracing sun,
poisons kissed away –
one celestial afterimage

Speak now
How I adore you, my love!
At last the words
Not surface for eyes only
but your spirit radiant
seen in our hearts
Beautiful beyond language
I love you beyond thought

Share now
this delight, this blessing, this magic
seems to breathe life into Earth

For Majken R., 1970-2010

10/93, 8/16

Haiku 9 (4.21.15)

driven by downpour

confident shelter under

leaky umbrellas

Haiku 8 (4.11.15)

window reflections:
passersby, clouded aircraft
transient, obscured

Haiku 7 (4.10.15)

sweet angel fading
benediction: purr no more
humanity beckons

Haiku 6 (4.10.15)

riverside gossip

dispersed in timely north winds

strident bristling geese

Haiku 5 (4.10.15)

foreshadows of tears

loom menacing, vigilant

man-sized icicles

Haiku 4 (4.3.15)

budding cherry trees
miscarry in mid-May frost;
bloom in memory

Haiku 3 (3.27.15)

Icy winds assail

unresisting, breathing flesh;

howling, pass away

Haiku 2 (2.3.95)

daughter’s silent room;
eternal empty neatness
between our weekends

Haiku 1 (2.1.95)

Discovering Bashō (at long last) has inspired me to finally have a serious go at haiku and tanka, and take up the poetic brush again, after a 19-year break. First, there are two old ones, to clear the buffer…

icy street corner,
icicled bedroll huffing,
bristled man, breathless