I remain seemingly alone, unassuming, on a fringe lush and tender. Day-by-day cars whizz me by; as strangers we remain. The world of smiles and laughter, youthful chatter, bouncing life – like Eagles flying, unstoppable, dynamic – and life passes me by. Children take hold of my branches bare, lifting themselves to greater heights. Older folk, picking the wildest of greens, lean on my trunk taking yet one more breath. Those in between, by my side rest, in the shade of my leaves, seeking respite from the tyranny of dreams. And I dream to be like them, to walk and run and fly.
dare I take a step?
roots hold me fast to the earth –
for I was made a tree
Sometimes we are disabled, whether it by by illness, unfulfilled dreams or factors beyond our control. It is hard to watch while the rest of the world gets on with it seemingly happy, successful and fulfilled. Yet even then we have something to offer. The fruit of such suffering, like the humble earth, holds and nurtures all that settles on it often giving birth to new life where there was none.
The photo was taken by a dear friend of mine outside the village of Sellas in the Peloponnese (Greece), many thanks for the inspiration 🙂
When I first saw this image two thoughts came to mind – fire and simplicity. My Tanaga reflects my personal experience of simplicity in my life as well as in the life of others. This experience has shown me that although simplicity may initially appear to be laborious and stale (indeed, often it is!) – those who have acquired genuine simplicity have a depth of humility, which serves not to debase themselves but rather to lift up the other. These people are a source of inspiration for me as they serve as a wellspring of love, patience and hope to those around them who have yet to be released from the complexities of this life.
Interestingly, I found an analysis of this painting by Van Gogh which highlights both the simplicity and complexity of the painting.
The waves rushed over my corpse, thrusting me to the ocean floor; suffocating me, tearing at my lungs. The sun that bathed me not long ago, seemed to hide its face before the persistent night-tide as I choked in my own tears. Swaddled in darkness I lost sight of the ‘little loves’ and my heart softly floated away; into forgetfulness. The tips of my fingers bled blue, as my body, weighed down, settled on the sandy earth. I quietly slipped beneath the watery sheets hoping to sleep that day away, every day…
Little stars peek through curtains dark. Their sparkle breaks through the watery surface, carving a break in the waves; calling to me. A force majestic, filled and overflowing, overthrows the swells, lifting me to the surface, though I barely noticed its touch. As the air fills my lungs once more, a warm gentle breeze caresses me, lovingly. The sun is still there.
forgetful world sleeps
merciless waves rise and fall –
sun ever present
********************************************************************************** Written for Haibun Thinking.
Written for Heeding Haiku With HA:Random Words. The challenge is to write a haiku/tanka using three random words. Many thanks to my three friends who provided me with a word each: juicy, seduction and manipulation. The picture was taken in Crete, I was amazed to find this olive tree growing within a small room of a dilapidated monastery.
‘Tis all unexpected really. Shells dig deep into my feet. Stinging blood seeps through layers of sand compact. I run along the soft wetness, arms outstretched, trying to catch the wind as the band plays in the background; drums beating, trumpets singing, feet tapping. Spiralling round and round, I hit the ground and the wet waves wilfully wrap me up. Whisk me away, O fearful waves, to tear-filled graves, that I may swim again.
awkward textures chase running up, down and around – that joyful sorrow