time travel

I travel back 300 years before my lifetime. I move in time but not in space staying rooted to this spot on earth. Who lives on this soil? What grows here? If I could, I would see the whole story unfold from the beginning. We are specks, our history a blip in billions of years.

full rainfall at last

how long will these trees thrive

on rock and clay?

©️2018 Ontheland

~

The geological clock: a projection of Earth’s 4,5 Ga history on a clock (“Ma” = a million years ago; “Ga” = a billion years ago)

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille June 27, 2018 time travel

A renga with Bashō

Carpe Diem’s Renga Challenge #1 invites us to choose from a selection of Basho’s early haiku (as translated by Jane Reichhold) and to create a Renga of at least 6 stanzas by arranging Basho’s haiku and inserting two-line verses in between.

inside the temple

visitors cannot know

cherries are blooming.

©️Bashō

robin calls from the treetops

blend in with the morning chants

©️Ontheland

the voice of reeds

sounds like the autumn wind

from another mouth

©️ Bashō

leaves fly like paper dreams

a season’s short-lived splendour

©️Ontheland

what a sprout

a dewdrop seeps down the nodes

of generations of bamboo

©️Bashō

the moon paints fresh oak leaves

once barren branches shimmer

©️Ontheland

the old woman

a cherry tree blooming in old age

is something to remember

©️Bashō

an ancient mountain stupa

stands watching the setting sun

©️Ontheland

happiness

What is enough time

flowing from dark to darkness

days or years away

~

a butterfly…

needs no answers

to flutter

~

lady bugs

their lives passing by

on my window sill

~

happiness

living like a butterfly

each moment is enough

~

©2018 Ontheland

~

My reflections are in response to Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #25: Use that Quote. Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) is a celebrated Indian poet who won a Nobel Prize for Literature in recognition of his work “Gitanjali” —he wrote it in Bengali and then translated it into English. The 1913 English translation includes an introduction by W.B. Yeats.

hidden

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vestiges,
accumulations
concealed, then
uncovered…
in the feline stealth of time
mountains grow from dust

~

©2018 Ontheland

Amaya at dVerse has challenged us to write a shadorma (3-5-3-3-7-5 syllables) with hints of shadow, mist, enigma. I wrote this gazing at the sunset, first thinking about the tunnels under Rome where they discovered all kinds of refuse, and then about other dumps and secret disposals large and small.

The photo is in the public domain, courtesy of Pixabay.com (search ‘hidden’).