2 more haikus

Withered twigs, now tipped with Earth's fire, first hints of spring.

---

Winter silence, endless bamboo sonatas, shishi-odoshi

a little haiku

Sea breeze & Sumi nights

Sitar strains on dancing palms 

My ancient-young heart.

Kyoto Haikus

Dark forest paths, Amitava memories, trees torch our way

Floating fall leaves? Red baby Kois play, mount Kurama.

Icy autumn gusts, brown leaves rain down, a flock of sparrows.

Tossing orange peels, perched under tall conifers, making my own Momiji

Impending autumn, searching for my father's smile, I wander alone.

Tangerine clouds

Persimmons color ground

Wild geese fly high

Ink stained hills

Yellow quilts of ripe rice

Swollen Kamo

Dove clouds drape,

Deep Indigo hills

Vermilion Tori

Velvet green hills

Urban jungle speed past

Composing haikus

In autumn days

Why do fires still ablaze

Awaiting winter snow

Still, and intent

A stork gazing into Kamo

Seasons swirl by

Deepening dusk,

Chasing deers' sharp bark

A Buddha in red scarf

Morning Moods II

It has been two weeks since our return from Kyoto - the misty forested hills are far away, so are the red Toris at shrines, extravagant traditional festival days , the still silence of hidden Zen temples, and most of all, the rapidly flowing Kamo river, the life line through this imperial city.

I now sit, looking at moods, on paper, that I tried to capture every morning there. And I recall the precious moments. I share these with you -my attempts at haiku in Kyoto.

Shinryoo aki no koe ( new coolness, autumn rains)
forests wrapped in wreaths of mists
pine and cedar fragrance                                  16/10/17

Wondering, I lie
what is profound and profane
in hinoki tub                                                      17/10/17

grey skies, ginkgo gold,
Kamo tranquil, transparent,
nature of my mind                                              18/10/17

green drips off from trees,
revealing crimson and gold
kindled forest flames                                          

cold winds, constant rains
birds sing; grass, trees sway and dance.
End in sight, Will I??                                          

Tall, frail pampas grass
white feathery stalks of silk
wind gusts, flowers fly!                                         19/10/17

Solitary walk; deep forests, narrow winding path; cicadas chorus              

Already past noon,
wrapped in his arms, New Year Day
stringing new Haikus.                                           20/10/17

Cold clouds loom too low
trees blush in their ripened age
vagaries of heart.                                                  

Fires burn at all age
Ginko adorns herself in Gold,
Winters touch, she sheds                                        21/10/17

cold day, flat grey sky
rain sounds, puddles on ground,
warm in bed, I watch.                                              22/10/17

Raging typhoon all night,
clear silent dawn,  calm, bright,
rain drops, diamond sparks                                      23/10/17

Kamo overflows
teal-jade; pink-red hints on trees
Grey stork in Zazen                                                   24/10/17

Morning Moods

I am a big fan of many things Japanese.  And, Haiku - a poetic form of 5-7-5 syllables which 'captures' moments-moods, embedded within seasons, nature, and space, with a briefest rhythm of words, tops my charts as quintessentially the best in Japanese Zen expression. Of course, the language itself lends naturally to the emergence of this poetic form with their enormous mood-vocabulary expressed in briefest inter-connected mono-syllables.

For my month in Kyoto, I promised myself an attempt to do at least one haiku every day. Most days, I sit immediately after my morning coffee, looking out into forests that roll steeply down hill and try to think of words that express the moment. Morning Moods compiles this attempt so far, to express a mood-moments without complying to a strict rigor on the syllable rhythm - challenging to do in English. I have used Japanese seasons words, as a guide, where I could.

Summer departs,
mists descends down hills, forests,
wrapping my new day.                                              

momiji-gari (display of autumn leaves)
fiery colors ablaze within-
my autumn age.

Awaiting Koyo (display of autumn leaves)
no sign of Kitsusuki (woodpecker - autumn signature)
restless in Kyoto                                                                                      --3/10/17

Transparent cool days
Hints of fire in green forests
will I miss Koyo?

Golden harvest moon,
shibori clouds on indigo-
Kumano Jinja Mae ( a temple)                                                              --4/10/17


Hatsu Akashi (first autumn storm)
in reverence, trees bow low
rain drenched earth.                                                                                --6/10/17

Rain gusts billow mists
swathe tall cedars in pashminas
silence is now fragrant.                                                                                   --7/10/17

Watery sunshine
mists rise amongst Hinoki (Japanese cedar)
Earth lights incense to day                                                                             --8/10/17

Eye-doors shut; I dream,
play, sing, and dance - all within;
bird songs from afar.                                                                            

Warm, and sunny days
Koyo in Kyoto distant,
clear heart, I still smile                                                                         --9/10/17

Doors open, butterfly
flew inside, and cicada
chirped under my bed.

Aki-no-ame (autumn rain)
scraps of sky litter the ground,
suns ablaze all around.                                                                       --10/10/17

In bed, wondering
to read, to paint or to sing
days pass, seasons change.

A fall fly flies in,
finds food, warmth, my nose to perch,
who will move first?                                                                         --11/10/17

Still a week away,
Kurama himatsuri (fire festival in Kurama),
Forest flames kindle.

night rains, morning mists,
lonely birdcall from forests
I sit still, aware                                                                                 --12/10/17

Aki-no-sora (intense blue autumn sky)
washed over by red-gold dusk,
Geese fly south over Kamo(river)      

Incessant misty rains,
dark clouds blanket the forests
- a piercing shika scream (mating call of small deer in autumn)     --13/10/17

watercolor dawn,
softly washed land and sky
birds chorus in song.

waning harvest moon
dark Sumi nights, I sit, (Sumi = charcoal ink)
within my Enso.

Two inter-twined lives
irrelevant chains in space-time
part of cosmic mandala.                                                               --14/10/17

Dark green forest-hills
loom over golden paddy
feast days for sparrows.                                                               --15/10/17

aki-no-koe shinryoo( autumn rains, new cool)
forests wrapped in wreathes of mists
pine and cedar's fragrance.                                                          --16/10/17

Fleeting Moments-Captured Moods

For every whirling dervish that resides in one's inside-madly swirling to life songs, life sorrows-there is a quiet epicenter, an observer, a recounter of escaping instances, anchoring that movement, holding it tight-tightly escaping. While the ecstasies of abandon, sema swirls, paint the worlds in color and passion, the center remains silent, clear, transparent, recording bit by bit, the lived fleeting moments, capturing moods in brief jewel words-the Haikus. Masterpieces of japanese soul, they record the now, present and alive, for all eternity in melodic rythm of syllables, five, seven, and five- and thus briefly, leave a lived moment of picture, smell and song-for posterity.

Born of the Zen buddhist tradition, these brief moment-poems,the Haikus, capture its meditative spirit, in contemplation of nature, the fleeting season cycles, and a approach that emphasises an acute awareness of the present, of now, of conscious and alive. Completely opposed to the sufi way of losing the self, in the divine beloved, the haikus were a vehicle to record the inner instance, and its response to the outer ,natural world. Thus Matsuo Basho wrote:

Such stillness-
the cries of the cicadas
sink into the rocks.

or again, by Issa:

A lovely thing to see;
through the paper window holes
the Galaxy.

A bush warbler comes-
and starts to wipe his muddy feet
among the blossoming plums.

In its eye
the far-off hills are mirrored-
dragonfly!

A particularly well known one by Ryokan,

The thief left it behind:
the moon
at my window.

captures both the poets mirth at the transitory materialism and the essence of his own spirituality.