from depth of night’s rest
I hear you, feel you
know you are waiting
Author’s Note:
Poem and painting published in Issue #10 at Wormwood Press Media.
from depth of night’s rest
I hear you, feel you
know you are waiting
Author’s Note:
Poem and painting published in Issue #10 at Wormwood Press Media.
victor of winter’s final bluster
pine cones scatter across my path
seeding spring’s promise
Winter Violets – acrylic and pen n watercolor paper – 18′ X 24″ – Lex Loenard
I didn’t know they are called winter violets
I know them as johnny jump ups, violas
They don’t bloom here in winter’s bite
They wait for spring to introduce themselves
They tuck in wherever they please
I cannot design their path
A surprise, a nod to independence, survivalwinter violet
she carries
a tiny fire
– Ami TanakaMy grandmother grew them in her lawn
Candytuft their partner
Honeyed liquor for bees
Judicious steps for bare feet
A summer’s expeditionviolets here and there
in the ruins
of my burnt house
– Chiyo-niIt is snowing, again
Another kept quarantine
Amid no-contact solitude
Amid numbers piling up
Like snow
Like leaden slats of blighted ruins
Waiting for Phoenix to rise again
Or little purple yellow faces
Peeking out from beneath
A kept quarantineno limit to kindness
winter violets
– Mitsu SuzukiThere is a kindness of canvas
An artist’s peace
If just a glance, a moment to dwell
An offering
Rising through depths of piled forfeiture
There is a spark of hope
Purple yellow faces
A cycle not denied
Author’s Note –
I was graciously invited to attend an on-line reading of haiku by some amazing poets from the Pacific Northwest and around the world. They read one haiku – their own or another’s – and spoke of the meaning. It was in celebration of International Haiku Poetry Day. The theme was taken from The Poetry Society of America who invited poets to write about “poems they return to in difficult times – to find solace, perspective, or even moment of delight.” Thank you Cj Prince and Victor Ortiz for this brilliant opportunity to learn and grow.
In the short hour, three of the haiku included winter violets. The images stayed with me and deepened as each new winter violet popped its head up to speak.
I took it to the canvas first and played with a different process than I usually do. It is very difficult to photograph this image. It just doesn’t do it justice. You may get a better idea of what it looks like if you do close-ups of the above image.
Then I moved to write with the inspiration of the poets – Mitsu Suzuki, Chiyo-ni, and Ami Tanaka. Much gratitude.
Day 16: Peace Poetry Postcard Month
Your call muted, walled
away. I hear and answer
neath Venus’ glim.
I hold your face in
my winter bared arms and know
the ancients in us.
.
.
.
A blessed full moon.
Lex
My marrow flows soft
with sap and stream under bright
Moon lighting my being.