秋雨や 庭のパレット 印象派
aki same ya niwa no paratto inshōha

fall rain
the garden palette
impressionistic

Photo: my Solo Hill Garden, Nov. 20, 2024

Sleepy raining morning with headache, slept in a bit, then finally had some coffee at the second floor dining room table with the window wide open, looking down, looking out, the light rain, and the slowly turning fall colors - dark green to light green to light yellow, speckled persimmon leaves, variations of pink, white, and red sazanka flowers, bluish tints in the still lush trees and bushes, glistening wet, light wet, smiling wet drops impress inks into my small haiku notebook. Headache slowly melts away. I remembered Monet’s Garden in the fall.

雨が降っている眠い朝、頭が痛い、少し寝坊した、そして2階のダイニングの窓を大きく開けた、やっとコーヒーを飲んだ。下を見る、真っ直ぐ見る、秋雨が降り、そしてゆっくりと秋の色に変わっていく - 濃い緑から薄い緑、そして薄い黄色へ。斑入りの柿の葉、ピンク、白、赤のサザンカの花のバリエーション、まだ青々とした木々や茂みに青みがかった色合いが見える。濡れて輝く、光が濡れ、微笑む水滴が小さい俳句手帳にインクをしめさせた。頭の痛みが解けた。モネの秋の庭を思いだした。

Tags: haiku, Poetry, Poetry and photos, haibun

Cybele and I first met virtually during the pandemic through a photo I posted of a sacred tree in Kyoto on the Inayatiyya Facebook group. We decided to meet up when I made a short work visit to Korea in August. Cybele wanted to take me to a sacred shaman nature site nearby in the mountains. The spot is marked by a huge rock spot topped by a dead tree (Cybele said it died immediately after a fence was put around the rock by the local government to keep people from praying there); evidently the mountain spirits were not happy, now again it is a place to offer prayers to Nature. The spot used to be a sacred crossroads for travelers. There is a small alter in front of the rock to make offerings.

As we were thinking and imagining what to offer, and ready to light some incense, we noticed there were already two other Korean local ladies there getting ready to do some kind of ceremony. They said we could watch from a distance, and this is what we saw with our eyes and poem below the photos for what we felt:

Shaman Ladies

Braided bound chords of cloth
Shaken then ripped
Ripping the knots of humanity
two lay shaman ladies
in their daily clothes
standing, bowing with passion
calling upon and
appeasing the spirit of a giant rock
and a dead tree at
ancient crossroad
scared gathering spot.

In sweltering heat their voices barely heard
they call upon the mountain gods and energy
that controls our lives….
my friend and I stand and watch
unexpected sudden guests to this ritual event
us too, hot with the heat of the boiling summer day
watching sacred colors
Red Yellow Black White Blue
symbols of Humanity
weaved and waved by
these believers
in the Spirit of the Land
patient local shamans
global in their intent.
They also have work to do.

Afterwards the ladies followed us to the WMH to get a feel for the place and possibly offer some advice on the energy present there. All I know is that the next morning I had a very special meditation time in my simple, beautiful, private room (too many bugs to sit in the garden as planned). The above poem was inspired in an instant that morning.

After breakfast I helped Cybele with some gardening. Cybele was cleaning up around the big tree at the entrance, partly so we could get the car in and out more easily. My task was to cut and unravel some tenacious vines that had taken over three small fruit trees during the summer. It was not unlike the shaman ladies unknotting the weaved chords they had prepared, clearing the so-called knots in humanity and our relationship with Nature as well.

vines in the trees
battle the sickle
hot sun me

(Haiku by Edo, aka Edward Levinson)

Finally taking a break in the shade under a big tree, sitting on a prime view veranda, I was touched by Murshid Hazrat Inayat Khan’s being. He seemed so pleased that this space in Korea existed and how my spot in Japan balanced with it and how we had created spaces for the Message here in Northeast Asia. Validation in any form is always dear.

Meditation time and hard labor work done, we were ready to take the car and treat ourselves by going out to lunch. Being super cautious driving out the narrow gravel road, we felt a hard bump and heard a shockingly loud hissing. We had hit a sharp rock (invisible to us in the high grass) that demolished the tire. While we waited for the wrecker, the “why” of our predicament came to both of our minds. A rock in the road could be a symbol, but interpretation of that is personal. I'm pretty sure somewhere Murshid’’s teachings it says, "the work of a Sufi is to remove rocks from paths of others" or something similar to that. Could have been Pir Vilayat who said or repeated it. My simple gardener mind always remembers the phrase and image. With extra unexpected effort, we certainly removed that rock from the path! I tossed that now broken thing off the road where hopefully it wouldn’t bother anyone else. I suppose the spirits of the land and the beings who knew we were there wanted us to slow down a bit. And so, we did.

sharp rock on the road
our so-called plans
a blow-out

(Haiku by Edo)

This is some guidance we came across after our untimely tire blowout!

By Edward Levinson with help from the spirit of Cybele.

Cybele is a musician from New York who came upon an abandoned traditional lord's house in the countryside of Korea. Entranced by the spot and the open-air stage of the house's porch, she spent the next 20 years creating a dream and then acquiring and restoring the house as a stage to preserve and promote world performing arts, and gather people in meaningful ways to expand the peace (inner and outer), joy, and connection in the world through music, the creative arts and culture. Cybele on Facebook.

For more info on Ureuk World Music House visit:
www.facebook.com/worldmusichouse

Unpublished poem and haiku copyright Edward Levinson.
Share with discretion.

For Edwards books visit the book page and his essay memoir book page "Whisper of the Land"
To see photos of Edward's Solo Hill Garden and House visit this link.

Tags: Environment, sufi story , Shaman story, haiku and photos

A Buddhist monk praying for alms in Yurakucho, Tokyo. From the series Beauty and Symbolism in the City

Shocked Awakening

He was shocked to wake up
one morning and the climate had changed.

He was shocked that wars were still being fought
needlessly taking lives, foolishly destroying
homes, schools, and other necessities of Life.

He was shocked by the bullets spraying
in classrooms as students tried to learn
teachers tried to teach.

He was shocked by the author
who was stabbed with a knife and
the politician killed with a homemade shotgun.

He was shocked by how many people mostly
talked to others via machines
and never touched each other or communed with Nature.

He was shocked that no one
had made his strong coffee yet
and awakened him out of this sunrise nightmare.

But he wasn’t shocked that
the birds still sang
the cicada still buzzed
the ocean tides still moved in and out
the sun and moon still rose and gave light
and clouds tried to show the way.

Floating clouds…
Yes, a floating world
something to grab onto
so he wouldn’t sink into
a permanent state of shock.

He looked in the mirror at his beard
that seemed to have grown too long and too white,
grabbed some sharp scissors, said a prayer.
“Perhaps if I trim it, these shocks will disappear.”

「ショックな朝」

彼はショックだった。
ある朝目覚めたとき
気候が変動していたのだ。

彼はショックだった。
未だに戦争が戦われている
意味も無く命を奪い
住まい、学校、他の人生に必要な物を
破戒している馬鹿馬鹿しさに。

彼はショックだった。
若い学生が勉強し
教師が教えている教室で
銃弾が飛んでいた。

彼はショックだった。
ある有名な作家がナイフで刺された
ある政治家が手作り散弾銃で殺されたことに。

彼はショックだった。
数多い人々がほとんど機械だけで人々と話す
直接他の人と触れ合わず
生きている自然との触れ合いも無い。

彼はショックだった。
この日の出の悪夢から目覚めるための
朝のストロングコーヒーを
まだ誰も点てていなかった。

彼はショックだった。
数多い人々がほとんど機械だけ話し合う
直接他の人と触れ合わず
生きている自然との触れ合いも無い。

しかし彼にはショックでないこともあった。
鳥たちは未だに歌っていた
蟬はまだざわめいていた
海の干潮と満ち潮はいつもどおり動いている
太陽と月が上がり、光りがきらめいている
そして雲は道案内をしている。

彼はショックだった。
誰も彼の朝のストロングコーヒーを
まだ点てていなかった
この日の出の悪夢から目覚めるために。

しかし彼にはショックではないこともあった。
鳥たちは未だに歌っていた
蟬はまだざわめいていた
海の干潮と満ち潮はそのまま動いている
太陽と月がまだ上がり、光りがきらめいている
そして雲は道案内をしている。

浮雲.........
Yes、浮かんでいる世界で
何かを掴まえよう
彼が永遠に続くショック状態に
陥らないように。

彼は自分の鬚を鏡で見た
長すぎる､白すぎる、かもしれない、と思った
鋭い鋏を掴み､そして祈った
「もしかしたら、鬚を手入れすると
このたくさんのショックが消えてしまうかもしれない。」

"Kenja no Hige (Sage's Beard)" from the book Timescapes Japan






This poem was written for a monthly Poetry Challenge Group on the theme of the emoji for "shock".

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Tags: Poetry and photos, Shocked Awakening