One of my earliest postings on this blog was of a haiku on a pearl. Having begun creating haiga, a combination of a haiku and a piece of art or a photograph. I reworked this poem, and this is the result. It is now finally finished. I only wish I could give full attribution to the original photographer, but I could find none after searching for quite a long time. I did alter the color to suit this poem. My thanks to all fine arts photographers who always inspire.
.
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in the rushes—
standing so silent
a lone blue heron
The photograph of this Great Blue Heron is anonymous, sadly. I could not trace this internet picture to a specific site or photographer. Whoever you may be, I thank you for creating a beautiful picture of this gorgeous creature.
Chairs in Luxembourg Gardens, Paris by Mary Kendall
In Luxembourg Gardens, Paris
A stairwell of shadows invites us to sit.
Empty chairs bask in the late spring sun,
Waiting for readers who choose to sit,
slipping into the borrowed lives of books.
Waiting for lovers to pull two chairs aside,
stealing time away from the world.
Waiting for an old man with a limping dog,
passing time away from his silent rooms.
Waiting for the widow who longs for the sun,
savoring the warmth like a delicate embrace.
Waiting for the disheveled girl who waits,
sipping a café crème with a guarded look.
Waiting for a businessman to eat his lunch,
savoring silence, no rumble of demands.
Waiting for the grandpère missing his children,
wondering what it is they do continents away.
Waiting for weary tourists who sit and rest,
whispering in languages you don’t speak.
Waiting for a tumble of clouds to sweep the sky
just as this sweet day slips into the waiting night.
Time passes.
People pass.
Memories pass.
Another day will come.
“Acceptance” Photograph by Iosatel (c) 2015
Should you wish to listen to the poem, click on the link below. It will take a few seconds to begin.
Acceptance
There—on the far side of memory’s window—
You stand there on the outside looking in.
Distanced, safe from the rawness of our lives,
You are given a choice whether to judge us
Now or see if we try to make amends, to heal
The hearts that have been torn at the edges,
Frayed by the refusal to forgive, and let others
Move on, a final repentance, a simple lesson
Of learning to forgive our own mistakes, our
Choices or the decisions we came to regret.
Life is not all black and white, but endless shivers
Of grey, silver, and ebony; hues of cream, ivory
And moonlight, and beautiful colors begin to bleed
Into our fabric when we accept others as they are.
Paths get worn by walking, grass just wears away.
Road crosses road, briefly intersecting, and then
Leading to new and unexplored places where
There might be answers if we put aside our slanted
Views and look well beyond our differences.
Beneath this fragile shell of life we are the same.
Why is this simple lesson so hard to learn?
Note: The main photograph (at the top of this page) used with this poem is a beautiful piece by the photographer, Iosatel. It appears on his photography blog, The Obvious and the Hidden, http://theobviousandhidden.com.
His black/white pictures are both beautiful and mysterious. Along with the intriguing pictures are his titles, which never fail to interest his many followers. This photo was entitled, “Acceptance.” It was this that began this poem. My warmest thanks to Iosatel for allowing me to use this photograph with my poem, ‘Acceptance.’
A Poet in Time 