Yesterday was leap day. I spent it taking care of my wife, who is recovering from a hip replacement. Her situation reminds me of the transition from Winter to Spring. Winter would be her painful determination to keep going despite the physical obstacles she was facing. Spring has just begun: the healing and slow emergence into pain free movement after surgery.
Sit still on leap day
And heal like the quiet earth
Growth comes again soon
Weather changes the most familiar paths:
Snow buries landmark stones.
Deep puddles block the trail
From boots and paws.
Fallen trees bar the way.
Today the ground
Crumbles under my step
And my foot is suspended
Above the cracking path
I’m surprised,
But it’s not the first time
I've stepped on a frost heave.
For a moment I enjoy
Pretending that the Earth is giving way,
Opening
And I will fall through
And fall
And fall
Into an unimagined abyss.
My eyes open.
I'm standing on the trail
My right foot is crooked,
But cupped by the sustaining earth.
Eyeing the ground.
I seek out more frost heaves,
Step on them lightly
To feel the crust breaking
Reliving the perilous moment
When everything below fell away.
Not really feeling like spring today in Southern New England! Pretty good sized snowstorm passing through. But I liked the image that these kigo words gave me: Shallow Spring, bush warblers and returning cold.
I tried to work today’s weather in, but it couldn’t happen. The image I chose is one that I have been noticing for several weeks: flocks of small birds in bushes by the trail. They’re a fun and refreshing sight.
Shallow Spring invites
bush warblers; returning cold
can't diminish songs.
Thanks as always to #tankatuesday
I love a challenge but this one was initially daunting. At tankatuesday, we were given a mission to write a bussokusekika, a Japanese form that is generally found at a specific Buddhist temple. It was challenging enough to write 3 verses with a 575777 syllable count, but I also wanted to honor its spiritual roots.
Luckily I had just taken a hike that provided an perfect image. Nature being a place of great spirit, I thought that this was fitting.
I stop on the path
That ice has taken over
A giant puddle
That stretches into the woods
And covers the trail forward
Ahead thin ice blocks the way
These woods are our home.
The right of the path slopes up
Boundary to ice
Water cannot puddle there.
I gaze through tangled branches
I look for a way through trees
Anna cracks through ice
She shakes a wet paw and turns
Following my steps
I find a path through branches
A way through brush sticks and stones
A soft trail through leaves and loam.
My haiku for this challenge uses the Kigo words “evergreens” and “bare trees”. I find myself enraptured by what is revealed by the bareness of winter. I especially love how the contour of hills is shown because we can see through the trees. I am caught by the jagged, long peaks that are exposed in this season.
Snow reveals all things:
Burdened evergreens bending
Bare trees branches weave.
For this challenge I used the Kigo list to almost entirely create my poem.
The sharpness of the stars is one of the joys of the season; the quality of darkness intensified by the contrast with pinpoint light.
Bright clear winter moon
Shining with cold and clear stars
Cold and clear frost gleams
As always I enjoy responding to tankstuesday challenges.
The most time I spend on the golf course is during winter. The local public course is open for recreation, so when it snows, the cross-country skis and sleds come out. I like to snowshoe. So the other day Anna and I had a little adventure. The happy screams of distant children blanketed the air. It snowed a little while I was shoeing, so it was a perfect winter moment. Four cold crows flew over, their black forms stark against the slate sky and white powder.
Snowy winter freeze
Winter hills contrast deep snow
Defining bare trees.
The tankatuesday challenge was a Haibun, which contains a prose paragraph and a haiku. My kigo words for winter were “freeze”, “winter hills” and “cold crow.”
Went for a good old haiku for this weeks tankatuesday.
I button my coat
Windy winter weather blows
Snowy meadow walk
I wish! I usually enjoy the differences in the seasons, but I am not fond of the grey, cold, windy winter we are having. I have always felt if it is going to be cold there may as well be snow!
The mission this week on TankaTuesday.com is to use 3 kigo words and write three Abhanga, with the syllable count 6-6-6-4.
Sunrise walks with my dog
Are from last week, or the
Weeks ahead. Now I sleep
in: Vacation!
Snow swirls, frost whirls, fire smoke
Twists in winter spirals.
A phrase that sounds like the
Grey days and thoughts.
Picture friends enjoying
Boxing Day in countries
That use "ou" for their
Labour, favours.
Happy New Year for those who celebrate 🙂
The #tankatuesday challenge this week is to write 3 Kimo poems, which have 10/7/6 syllables. Kimo is an Israeli version of the Haiku. The Kigo phrases we were tasked to use are “buying a new calendar”, “winter desolation”, and “trimming the Christmas tree”.
Buying a new calendar wondering
If measuring time causes
Me to lose sight of life.
Frostscapes, snowscapes, beaten down winter paths.
My winter playground, someone's
Winter desolation
Kicking the doorjamb knocks snow off my boots
I bring holly branches for
Trimming the Christmas tree
This poem shows a couple of my thought processes/ philosophies. I do often wonder how measured time puts artificial boundaries on my life. It is hard to shake the conditioning of the hours, days, weeks, months and years. Especially since I work at a school, with the Pavlovian bells ringing each period. I have no idea how to escape this cycle, but I do wonder about the impact of it.
When I saw “Winter desolation” I immediately knew I would flip that on its head. I love winter, especially snowy ones. I enjoy skiing and snowshoeing, but honestly winter hikes are all I need. Me and Anna the dog on the trails, crisp air and unlimited vistas.
Here is a link to my new poetry book, Self of Steam
Mark Bozeman 