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Archive for September, 2014

Haiku and Loku Days-The Cutting Room

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2014

Once during those years between childhood and full blown adolescence, I yelled at my mother, “I wish I had never been born!” (original dialogue, huh?”) “Well you were! So make the best of it.” she responded.

I remember thinking I did not sign up for this. I didn’t sign any contracts. As a child, this was not the life as I wanted it. And as an adult, I still think this is still not the life I wanted or had imagined.

Now in all fairness, there are parts of it I love. I love my children, and now, also my grandchildren, some family and friends. I have met some pretty neat people along the way. I have been given gifts, talents, and insights that not everyone has.  It is during the everyday struggles, the tests cutting away, molding, shaping, as on a piece of clay:  health and economic problems, the joy and sorrow of being alone, and just the general perversity, decay and destruction of the planet and all life systems at the hand of humankind-perhaps that should be human”unkind”, that I again think, “I did not sign up for this life, this very strange script of this very strange tour of duty.

I have read someplace, but of course I can’t remember where, that the soul chooses the conditions into which it is born in this realm that will create opportunities for growth. I don’t know if that is true or not. I do know that every day, every week, my whole life has seemed like tests. Opportunities for growth, maybe. Maybe I am still stuck in spiritual adolescence.  Every time I think I have figured something out, had an aha moment, thought I had grown a little, the script seems to change. There are scenes that never existed, never will exist, let alone make it to the cutting room. I would like to be a little more of the director and feel a little less like the player or the played.

 

 

The Cutting Room

 
Agreed to the script.
Director made changes-strange 
People and events.
 
Girl in a Chair by Al Lofsness

Girl in a Chair
by Al Lofsness

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Out of the essence of knowledge I gave thee being….
Out of the clay of love I molded thee….

The Hidden Words, Arabic #13

 
 
 
 
 

Haiku and Loku Days-Condensation

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2014

This morning I was up before sunrise in the kitchen cooking. I noticed condensation on  the west window. Just a few nights ago the lows were in the 70’s. This morning and two before it, the night temperatures were in the upper 40’s. All of a sudden it seems that autumn is here. It always does that, but now more than ever, faster than ever. It is sudden, like the sonorous swell of cicadas morphing into the tambour and click of the cricket songs, the winds sneaking in from the North, and condensation on a window still chilled from the night air. It is beautiful and intense. There is a melancholy for me, knowing that hidden in this beauty is the awareness of trying to still find warmth and cheer in the unfolding blanket of brown of dying daylight. I know I must condense my desires and dreams into a shorter period of time. The occasional tear condenses and drips from my dreams that can no longer be.

 

CONDENSATION

 
Another season
Condenses on my windows. 
Winter is nearer.
 
 
 
The Window in Autumn

The Window in Autumn
By Henri Le Sidaner 1916

 
 
 
 

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