his garden
the fresh oat grass
he left behind
.
©️2019 Ontheland
his garden
the fresh oat grass
he left behind
.
©️2019 Ontheland
spring frost
our pet’s departure
as life reawakes
.
©️2019 Ontheland
In Heeding Haiku, Chèvrefeuille asks us to write one poem inspired by the following three by Basho. The first is believed to be the last one that he wrote before he died:
falling sick on a journey
my dream goes wandering
over a field of dried grass
lying down
with quilts over the head
such a cold night
a rainy day
the autumn world
of a border town
© Matsuo Basho (1644-1694) (Tr. Jane Reichhold)
:
falling sick I dream
a meadow feathered with snow
dark ravens calling
:
©️2018 Ontheland
gathered by the urn,
we tell stories of his life,
a candle flickers
~
winter melt
ice cracking on the river
as we mourn
~
©️2018 Ontheland
The Thursday dVerse challenge posted by Jill Lyman was to write a poem in response to another poem. I have chosen Leonard Cohen’s poem “Elegy” published in his first poetry book, “Let us Compare Mythologies” in 1956. Since I couldn’t find a copy of it on the internet, I took the above photo of a print version.
I find Leonard Cohen’s poem to be open to a few interpretations. This allowed me to respond, as we often do in conversation, as if my understanding fits with his:
I shall not search for him
along cold city streets,
through lowland mists, nor
where hawks swoop for their prey.
I will turn from gunfire
and wanton cruelty,
from parched wastelands
and scarred tar sands,
to places of comfort.
I will embrace sustenance
contemplate continuity,
the warm caress of sun as
chimes sing in gentle breezes and
seeds nestle in fertile ground,
kind words of love resonating still.
~
©️2018 Ontheland
From life you stepped,
your cancer-sieged body
no longer a home.
We were standing near
close to life’s questions,
close to you, your courage
your humour,
your memories,
so present,
knowing the time
would soon be here.
When your hour came
you bid the white flag to rise
to penetrate flesh,
releasing breath
from all painful fight.
You who survived war,
hid in marshes,
saved children from slaughter,
sailed schooners on rivers across the sea,
surrendered in different times —
forever brave while poppies weep.
~
©️2018 Ontheland