Viennese Waltz 88
in the arms of the sun
i lose myself to this world
spinning around and around and
around
inside this open sky blue
and here
here in these arms of the sun
time alone
stands still
diamonds
bewitched by the light on this long road of diamond dust i dream endlessly
rainbows
warm sunlight kisses all my tears and hurt away levitating rainbows
rain
my heart today has no words only rain
The above photo is of a short poem titled “rain” from a collection of poems I published last year. It’s designed to reflect both the way Japanese language is traditionally written—right to left and top to bottom—as well as the way rain itself falls.
After hearing of the recent tragic mass shooting of children at an elementary school in Texas, I’ve been searching for something to offer this world with its incomprehensible sorrows. Surely there could be even just a few words to lighten the burden, ease the pain, to bring some kind of solace… After all, my poetic raison d’être of sorts is: crafting stories for a more beautiful and gentle world. I intentionally seek to illuminate beauty, love and light, even in the midst of our suffering… particularly in light of suffering, in light of the shadows. Words are my gift to this world, the flower of my heart I offer upon the alter.
But in these past days of searching, words firmly elude me. The strength to pick up scattered shards of my heart, eludes me. My body breaks down when thoughts are senseless and prayers echo, empty—again. In this paralysis of humanity, the little children are dying. What words can possibly carry meaning now? And so I, empty-handed, crave the rain.
I crave the rain. Let it fall, in torrents. Tears for all the little children. May it flood, a river over embankments of ammunition…. ammunition forged in outdated weapon-making factories, and in the defenses of ideological identity and warfare. May it rain for seven days and seven nights straight so that even the most guarded among us will finally seek refuge in the arms of another. May the relentless downpour drown out delusions of grandeur and bring all the mighty gods to their knees. And in the very end, may all the little children delight in the puddles—splashing about and dancing—carefree. Rainbows overhead. In the very very end, may all the little children simply be—children.
your name
have you heard it before? the land as it whispers the voice of soft soil underneath soles—bared to the earth calling calling out your name in the wind in the wild wild wind and singing between canyon walls and among the tall and slender reeds, your name Come, come home — it says — into my arms stretched out open and wide, and into my heart. and i run i run right into this wild wind without resistance as these whispers of land and soft sacred soil singing sing straight into my heart and i run and run right into these waiting arms into this heart i run, i run and run and run i run home
nectar
do not try not for a moment, not a heartbeat not even for a second, split to resist even the multitudinous gods cannot and absolutely care not to resist The Sweetness Nectar nectar is honey on the tongue diaphanous light like diamonds underwater sparkling champagne for the immortals and libations for the hummingbirds and the butterflies wine, for the soul
epilogue two
i dance to breathe
and
breathe to dance
to fly
to fly
to my sun
i dance
in the light, and
on the light feather of the hawk
so swift so soft and so
f i e r c e
i fly
to my sun burning
on fire
burning brightly
and, oh so lightly
on these skins, these mountain skins
and i breathe
i breathe
i breathe to dance
dance to breathe
here
between heaven and
here
between heaven and this
earth
Flower Power
Preamble: This is the first time to upload a video to my blog post, and it is entirely the work of my iPhone which voluntarily made it for me! 🤣 But fortuitously and synchronistically so. I’d been wondering what one photo could capture the rich abundance of flowers and my phone spontaneously offered me this little photo montage. Thank you, iPhone! 😁
What makes you flower?
Like the stunningly vast array of flowers, what makes each one of us flower or thrive may indeed be very distinct. The needs of a pink water lily are not the same as those of golden gazanias. Where one would flourish, the other would simply wither away. But all flowers need the same elementals: some particular mixture of sun and sky, water, soil and minerals.
What is yours? Your optimal mix of elementals? The personal ecology that brings out your soul to shine? Are you flowering? What do you need to flower and to flower more?
What is your Flower Power?
embodied
have you ever felt that? Earth—in your body, breathing... a sweet sigh, and then a swift intake what song does she sing passing through your skin your surface soft, light, and open dancing here under this boundless sky? to whom or to what absolute and singular love does she serenade?
The above “photo-poem” was made when I was still placing print on top of photos and unfortunately, I don’t have the original photo now. I also haven’t been able to recapture the same feeling—the same ineffable sensation of breathing—in another photo. But perhaps on some mysterious, sweet, and softly lit day, I will again find the perfect set of trees and sky, breathing.
Have you experienced something similar? A discovery of the world breathing through your body? Or your body breathing through the extended world around you? In this physically embodied realization of connection, we discover that we ourselves are love. Love itself. Nothing other than love. We discover oneness and totality, beauty and grace. Hózhó. An absolute and singular love.
The Quest
"In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no one can see you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art. ~Rumi~
What is it that awakens your love, kindles your desire to create, and
like the water’s sparkling surface—reflects back to you the artistry of your own soul?
If you know the answer to this question, you have found all that you will forever need.
If not, then rest assured that the light once sought, always find its seeker.
Reunion is the inevitable resolution of quest.
Michiru Adrienne 