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Ignorance

Man’s greatest curse 

Ignorance of who he is.

So what are we!?

We are dust that has come alive 

Dust that is impregnated 

By the ultimate 

Giving movement, thought and spirit 

Beyond imaginable incredibility.

If for a moment we dare to appreciate 

That we are drops of water, 

Chemicals and their reactions,

Unfathomable yet engineered 

Into synchronicity and self regulation, 

With nature’s bell curve 

From infancy to geriatric demise, 

Given the fortune of possibly seven decades or more.

Where in this timeframe 

Did we give credence

To the liberty of life?

Too busy distracted 

With fear, greed, and a presumed freedom 

When all along 

The ultimate has been bestowed, 

Day after day 

Each a renewed opportunity 

To participate, to glorify 

Existance.

For in a blink of an eye 

And as your actual eyes close, 

It will come to an end 

And what will it have all meant? 

Nothing!

For it was only for you alone 

To enjoy, to unfold, to acknowledge 

This relationship 

You, your existence, your sustainer.

So don’t take lightly 

Revel in your seasons,

Reflect and learn your lessons 

Grow and reach towards the light within.

As only then 

Will you beam and reflect

A truth for yourself and your community 

Both.

Art by Catrin Welz-Stein

Silence

Poetry Pharmacy – Silence 

“How still, how happy! Now I feel 

Where silence dwells is sweeter far

Than laughing mirth’s most joyous swell

However pure its raptures are.”

Emily Brontë 

Ahhhh this place of silence 

Awaiting my arrival day and night 

No appointments, no reservations 

No declines, no rescheduling.

Premium seat guaranteed 

Reception perfectly suited 

To wash away the tarnishing mind

Silence with peaceful hum of breath 

Music with depth greater than the heart 

This the purest of joys!

Anniversaries

Dates that come around

Reminding of happy times,

Times we commemorate 

Births, milestones

Achievements

And then there is death.

The time span of existance 

This we have made the measure of life,

A beginning and an end.

But the mess in the middle 

The delicious filling 

Between two slices of bread,

Of what endless choices we have 

What pleasure it brings,

What surprises we have.

So this day, today

I celebrate not commiserate,

The life of a man, the life of my Dad.

If he taught one thing,

It was to get up and go

For there was always much to be done

Always much to be had.

So in his memory

Sisters let wake. 

Let’s get up and go

Go in life, with his push forever behind us

But on our path, of our making.

For finding our zest and zeal 

Lies not with and through those we have and those we’ve lost 

But deep within ourselves

As we make the choices, 

To grow and connect 

With the source 

That cannot leave,

Will not abandon

Is always waiting

To catch,

To promote

To praise

With each little gifted

Moment,

Breath

Presence.

Mat-Eternity

Beyond the nursing

Diaper changing

Feeding, bathing

The endless list of verb-ing

A mother subliminally shares

The deepest bond 

Where emotions are perceived 

Dreams, aspirations are known

Fears and regrets are soothed

She is a super hero

Magical strength

Far reaching vision

Always recognizing 

All you need

All she can do 

And to do it 

With an unshakable love.

How does the saying go?

Mothers are angels

Without wings 

Sent by God

How fortunate 

That each and everyone of us 

Is-was blessed

Not without but with our very own angel.

And even when

No longer Earthly

She stays close to our heart

Whispering day and night

Sweetness second to none

Encouragement and praise showered as

Only a mother can and will.

So hold your child

Cherish your mother 

As everyday’s a gift 

And take not for granted 

To mother or be mothered.

Goodbye

How did you manage

In such a short time 

Two weeks of my time

Give me a life time of yours

Approached with anxiety

Perhaps even trepidation 

A nervous excitement 

A sort of delirium 

With the softest of landings

Then scooped into the Shinkansen 

The magnetism began

As the tracks journeyed straight to my heart

With each embraced tradition

Whisking matcha tea

Adorned in geisha gowns 

Surrendering into healing Onsens

Stepping bowed headed

Into Shrines and Temples

Ringing bells

Unfolding fortunes

Tasting pickles

Slurping ramen 

Drinking plum wine

‘Gochisousama’

Back now in my own land

I savor my mochi

Cook my own ramen

Soak in my bathtub 

Feeling a loss

Harboring a longing

Miss feeling your kindness

Your welcome each morning

With awe for all your humility 

Your grace, your simple joyfulness

I kneel and surrender 

In thankfulness that we met. 

The Geisha

The Geisha

This artful entertainment,

Began in the 7th century 

With male exclusivity. 

1751 saw the entry of females

From where developed a most respected Japanese female professional.

Historically by the strikingly beautiful,

The most obedient and apt 

For learning and discipline, 

As many a sacrifice required. 

From physic maintenance

To unquestioned availability 

With renouncement of any personal life.

Learning of the arts,

Developing intellectual prowess,

All for the utmost professional engagement

Yet individualized and tailored hostessing.

Once taken/sold into a Hanaachi, Flower Town,

Becoming part of an Okiya*

Training began, sometimes as early as in the pre-teens.

As a maiko*

Learning to dance, sing

Perhaps play the samisen*

Navigate the host and his guests;

Each geisha working to develop

A customer base

Loyal for her particular services.

As such, Mineko Iwasaki, 

Became the most renown giesha

At the young age of 21years. 

Today, a mere 1000 exist 

Primarily in the Gion district of Kyoto.

With white powdered face

Stature of a queen, 

Maided by her maiko

Chauffeured to her teahouse.

An upheld culture,

By those even more dedicated 

Than their predecessors,

To a heritage and history

As modern technologies, tourism,

Misunderstandings invade 

Their traditions and values.

Privileged to witness

Such an art, a dedication 

By women with stout independence.

I’m humbled in their presence 

For sustaining a feminine standard 

Of the highest integrity and honor. 

Hiroshima

Countless children at school

Workmen at construction sites,

All unknowingly said a final goodbye that morning…

A white to grey plumage rose to the sky

As crimson red flames scorched the ground

Soon a black radioactive rain showered down.

The range of pain that ensued 

Completely breaks the heart

Churns the stomach

Depresses the mind to non-functional.

This the feeling 80yrs later 

Viewing the Children’s memorial

The Atomic Bomb Dome

Names, endless names…..

Reading the personal stories, 

Mothers’ searching for their children

Orphaned children housed by strangers,

All burnt, scarred, mammed, or with post exposure sickness.

City, housing, families, lives

Destroyed or left unrecognizable.

Mass destruction followed by 

Prolonged suffering and ugly painful deaths.

A truth known by the rest of us from history class 

This 3D evidence 

Even when second hand, 

Screams volumes 

Lessons learnt but easily forgotten 

Time, distance 

Poor excuses.

Are we not at a precipice 

Where so easily 

We could repeat history?

Only with greater

Far reaching force and destruction?

Our power is limitless 

As darkness and light.

Now is the time for unity 

To prevent another Hiroshima.

Acknowledge the pains of past atrocities, 

Claim the light, kindness and understanding from within

Let today’s children never have to learn and visit further new memorial sites.

Nepal to Nara

The man, Siddharthar Gautama,

Of Indian decent 

Known now across all continents.

‘Princedom’ childhood

Protected and privileged 

Lap of luxury.

Curiosity of a tender 

Wholesome heart.

Peeking beyond the fortress

Tears of realization, 

Suffering is omnipresent

Nirvana is not created.

With stillness,

Acceptance, 

Came actualization.

Everything has its place 

Dharma, Karma, Samsara.

With responsibility taken

Each can find our Buddha within;

Enlightenment to tread this earth

Free of entrapments, suffering.

The path from Nepal

The spirit of Buddha

Sits giant-like 

In Todaji Temple,

Surrounded 

By the bowing deer of Nara.

Gazing up

To the height and depth 

Of this monumental form,

My spirit expands 

With a knowingness, 

That it is only my stillness

That brings

My samsara,

My nirvana,

Right here, right now;

Which ever corner 

Of the planet I sit. 

Samurai

Dedicated 

Diligent

Disciplined

In practice  

In principle

In progress.

Consistent 

Committed

Conscious 

To history

To honor

To heritage.

Where is the ‘Samurai’ of today??

Are they not the men, women of our armed forces?

Do we not ask of them this?

Barrack training when young and impressionable

Indoctrinated to preserve the homeland,

Returning scarred, at times flesh wounds none to seen

Injured down to the soul.

How can we pay homage to such sacrifices?

How do we expect this unquestioned service?

Perhaps a return to respecting and upholding 

Our forefathers,

Their wisdom, their foresight.

Making clear

To acknowledge our privilege,

Our priorities.

Standing by

Our promises

Our patrons, fellow countrymen 

Allies and mankind.

May the heart of the Samurai 

Be known to us today,

May the humility,

The character 

The sanctity be preserved.

May each man 

Each woman 

Take stock of what can be lost 

When traditions, culture 

Values and knowledge

Are compromised

And worse still, disregarded.

Japan Waters Teach

In secluded Teahouses, 

Shrines surprising on any given dori,

Onsens, lakes and glistening stalactites;

Water everywhere is revered…

Quenching

Rejuvenating 

Exhilarating 

Purifying…

Immerse into Onsen waters,

Healing heat and minerals

Weightlessness teaches trust

Promise of nature’s caring protections.

Teahouses simmer waters ceremoniously,

With ‘Harmony’ between the articles and the environment 

Utmost ‘Respect’ of the process

Precision and care for ‘Purification’ 

All with ‘Silence’ and concentration.

Passing though a Tori, shrine after shrine 

Welcoming water wells and baths

Offer cleansing of the body,

Both inside and out.

Hosted by Hozu-gawa River

Floating along oar by oar,

Accompanied by scenic trains, birds

Along embankments and bridges alike 

Until a squeezed passageway

Between silver grey boulders 

Rocking and splashing,

Rapids, cool and drench…

What of this liquid

Colorless

Tasteless

Yet infinitely irreplaceable!

Unique to the Pale Blue Dot.

I hold you in my cupped hands,

You kiss my surrendering lips 

You run through my veins

Synchronized to life itself.