Some are nightfall, some are twilight, some are high noon on a blue sky day. Some are moon shadow, some are purple mountain right before dark. Some are bright as comet fire, some are pale as morning light. Some are sunrise, and carry a promise with them wherever they go, some are the air that holds dust sparkles when the first glint of sun bursts through a cracked curtain. Some are the magic that never leaves that.
I met you on a steam train in Scotland. You glowed, vivid and hot, like coals on a fire not long gone out, but on the verge of burning again if nudged, if given more air, and burn you did when I saw you again in a tiny shop, where we were all drenched from the rain, looking at Harry Potter merchandise and finding warmth. You handed me your haiku from that day, I presume written on that train, sitting with your wife to be, your family, your friends. A stray spark from your embers fell on my skin when you gave me that piece of paper, reminding me that the universe shows us what we need to see when the world feels like it is shifting under our feet, when we need a signal, a sign, that things will be ok.
I love that you have the Tarot cards w/ today’s Haiku that were discussed the other day. It was a fascinating discussion and I’m on a mission to learn more!
Although I’ve never met you, if I were to describe you to a stranger- I would say you are the light that persists through fog, the determined rays that pierce that thick kind of mist that settles between the trees.
I hope whenever you see this kind of light, you are reminded of your own perseverance.
You are that warm cup of tea that is sorely needed not only after a cold day, but a cold life. Most people cannot bear to have their aches exposed to others. Most people if they could bear that ache cannot fathom how to articulate their heart’s cries. You are the writer, the poet, the miracle maker that gives words to those hurting, cold souls to warm them up and make them take sips of vulnerability. Through your simple, yet dazzling expressions, haikus, musings, you help the world see that is is more than okay to take off their armor. You teach the people that vulnerability is not only much needed, it is the key to all the rusted locks. Cheers with pinkies held as high as the tea cups, to you.
Reading this brings to mind the comfort and surprise I felt when my mother sent me a care package long ago. It was joy, and warmth and lots of love - all things you send out to the universe. Golden light.
I feel you like a natural spring....a source of clarity issuing forth from the depths of Earth and this human existence with the layers of dirt and soil, rock and crystal, carrying in your every line and composition the dissolved emotional landscape of everyperson, filtered to purity....but exposed to light of day, rather than kept hidden and unshared. Your words bubble over, daily, so many and so vital. And in the same way our mostly-water bodies resonate with the sea, our mostly fluid thoughts and emotions resonate with the continuous flow from your heart to mind to fingertips to page or screen to our eyes to mind to hearts....all over the world.
Every sunrise deserves a set of eyes to appreciate their changing beauty. A visionary who stands in awe, with the capacity to see the whole while capturing every shaft and shard.