tanka - spring synergy

spring synergy

winter’s chill undone

beneath clear warmth of spring’s sun

stretched upon the deck

slender cat soothes aging joints

eyes closed, body drinks pure bliss

Photo by Judy Beaston

Poem by Judy Beaston, April 26, 2013

poetry - tanka

flower field

waning rays’ soft glow

deepens tulip buds’ blushes

magenta, crimson

soldier on, row after row

silent stewards of beauty

Photo - Bing.com/images, Tulip Field, wallpaper 
Poem by Judy Beaston, April 25, 2013

Charmed by Spring

Took most of the day off to step back into nature by visiting the Japanese Garden here in Portland. The tranquility refreshes me, even with other people wandering around. I took my time, breathed in the colors, the energized silence. I actually prefer being alone here. When I visit with a friend, words break the spell too often.

I was surrounded by some elegant pink blossomed trees, a few strong reds and the promise of much growth to come. Promise - a good word. The promise of releasing the weight of the busyness of life, the promise of shaking off winter and embracing the energy of new life and the promise of what waits when I return - soon - for my next visit.

Perhaps tomorrow, a poem...

Spring into writing

Been chasing down my muse today. Weather's nice, dry and partly sunny - a plus for the Pacific Northwest. Creativity churns when my muse goes on holiday without me. The pieces left behind become a rather disorderly bunch and there's just no getting the words, phrases and ideas to line up in any sensible, ready for writing order.  Even so, I pulled this one together last night. Hope you enjoy it, maybe recognize some of your own days when creative expression is challenged.

While the Muse is Away

I am a poet,

my pockets overflow

with letters, words,

ideas, snappy phrases,

like sensible shoes, each of them

capable of long journeys,

comfortable as well for brevity,

eager for journeys to ocean beaches,

Puget Sound, Mt. Saint Helens, empty

now of her pent up rage, her cauldron

contents less volatile than long ago.

Pockets emptied onto the desk,

sorted, they prove a rambunctious,

disorderly lot, unwilling to gather

in any sort of poetic line-up,

I’m thinking maybe a few mug shots

might snap them into attention.

Wearied now, I catch a giggle,

then another – before long

my resistance fades, laughter

bubbles within, face forms a smile,

shoulders relax and I sigh, accept

my muse’s absence and reach

for a mighty fine wine, comfortable

chair and an engaging book.

by judy Beaston

March 23, 2013

Heading into 2013

Not just another year

Born this day a few decades past,

a journey undertaken for adventure,

exploration of human existence,

the unfolding of a lily in the morning,

dances of the bees at noon,

soaring on the wings of a hawk

through warm afternoon skies.

And now? The hawk circles, locates

another thermal, rides ever higher,

the world a vast uncharted vista

with much yet to discover, experience;

too soon to find the evening metaphor,

knowing this is not just another year.

by judy Beaston

January 31, 2013

Ancestry Search

When I was around the age my younger brother is right now, I set into a more serious search for my ancestry. I joined ancestry.com, growing every day more amazed at the volumes of data saved and retrieved about the comings and goings of mankind through the years. Some days, I lost hours wandering the halls of information, chasing tidbits of information, wondering: "Is she related? Is he?"

I gleaned a few solid connections, gained more from an aunt who had previously gathered much information on her own. But, I eventually felt the weight of searching the labyrinth of halls, grew tired of losing hours to a search yielding few useful links.

Now, that brother has entered the maze, already updating the family tree far beyond anything I'd accomplished. I think, too, that the website has improved their graphics, enhanced the options for the user and opened doors to more genealogical information than ever before available worldwide.

His entry has sparked renewed interest within me. But for what end? What might "I" personally really glean from knowing the "who" of my family's ancestry? Unless we can dive below the surface to glean fascinating details about the life each of those ancestors lived, they remain but a name.

Still, I'm fascinated by opening the shadows and discovering whatever treasures might be resting on the forest floor.

Summer Winds

There are markers along my summer journey. Every year, certain events key me in to the coming fall changes. Not just our entry into fall's brilliant technicolor coat - nature's last hurrah before winter locks all into slumber. No, it goes beyond that. Fall begins a journey of learning and discovery for me. Even though I am no longer an official student, having left those years long, long ago, I seem to move with the flow of all the young "interns" and settle into a pattern of studying something new or improving some skill already acquired.

The markers? Subtle shifts in the crispness of morning, the squirrels' frenetic gathering of nuts, and the influx of bees that seems to appear every August. Then there's the barrage of ads everywhere, and even the reminders laced into the stories on the comics page of the newspaper. Our family always went camping in August and I have a friend who plans a wilderness, solitary hike for rejuvenation every end of summer.

All of these remind me that it's time for me, too, to close some old books, start a new journal, clear the last of the weeds, put away summer's toys and prepare for the cozy days of winter.