Odd Collection of Haiku

reflection1

Clouds in sky and sea
A hush of clear reflection
Fishermen with nets

© Salem Islas-Madlo 2016

*photo by Chian Tsun-Hsiung, Chian Tsun-Hsiung

rainbow dreams

Out of the blue, tears
Sliding down a rainbow arch
Umbrella daydreams

© Salem Islas-Madlo 2016

*photo found on pinterest, Reflections

moon shivers

Falling shadows break
A light path of moon shivers
At the water’s edge

© Salem Islas-Madlo 2016

*photo found on tumblr, Moon Shivers

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Allow Healing

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Rosehip tears

Mourning

A closed heart

The color of red

Bleeding 

In winter

© Salem Islas-Madlo 2016

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“Embrace yourself, in these times, and acknowledge yourself for the extraordinary progress you are making, as a soul, in every waking moment.

“The very fact that you are drawn to reading these words attests to an openness on your part to aligning with the momentum of this multidimensional journey. Know that what you have done so reflects great courage on your part. And that to continue to do so, despite the resistance of consensus thinking, puts you in the forefront of those destined to emerge…”

“The opportunity to circumvent some of the mountains that most will manifest and choose to scale lies in the ability, in the moment at hand, to release the need to control the result of the dynamics of any circumstance in which one finds oneself.

“By consciously shifting one’s intent to one of conscious allowance of the manifestation of the highest good of the collective, one enhances the opportunity to manifest the brightest possible outcome for oneself.

“In so doing, one is able to secure a state of beingness that is unencumbered by eons of trial and error and is free to explore the joys of manifestaion of the Divine Will in alignment with one’ own.”

Rasha from Oneness,

*from MysticMama: http://www.mysticmamma.com/embrace-yourself/

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“The very center of your heart is where life begins, the most beautiful place on Earth.” ~Rumi

Healing Heart Meditation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDw1iYUjFAk

 

 

 

 

Becoming Rain

rain1

the tears

i shed

yesterday

have become

rain

“In one of my former lives I was a cloud. The cloud had a nice time in the sky, travelling around and looking down. A cloud is sometimes transformed into rain, and when the rain comes, the cloud isn’t scared to death. The cloud knows that the rain is something very exciting too. So, instead of crying, the cloud begins to sing and becomes the rain falling on fields and into the rivers.”

“If we look deeply we see that the nature of a cloud is also the nature of no birth: The cloud does not come from nothing. It has come from the water in the river and ocean. It has come from the heat of the sunshine. You know that the birth of a cloud is a poetic image. The cloud is simply a new manifestation. Before being a cloud, the cloud has been many other things. Our true nature is the nature of no birth and no death. Birth and death are notions that cannot be applied to reality, because there is nothing that can be born from nothing, and there is nothing that can become nothing at all. The meditation practice of looking deeply will bring about insight. It will dissipate our fear and our despair.”

-Thich Nhat Hahn

*art by Omer Agam (digital artist and graphic designer)

Terra Word Art

The clouds jutted upward like mountains from the flatland rolling at the horizon in shades of lavender, smokey-blue, and silver- white. Birches huddled together like naked ladies in the wind.

Gaea adorned herself in a soft-blue gown of billowing chiffon for the dance of new beginnings. Gifting mortals who have the power to look deeply with a glimpse of clarity.

The sun kissed her face of many colours. Nourishing her wounds and scars as well as her abundant bounty.

It is in her nature to be fiercely harsh and even destructive, yet she is also known to shield and nurture all of life. Thus, she weaves magic under hard, crusted furrows touched by winter’s frosty tears.

© Salem Islas-Madlo 2014

Weight of the World

pain

Sometimes

It’s the little things

That bring tears

And weigh you down

Bringing the secret feeling

That you just want to quit

Then you breathe.

© Salem Islas-Madlo 2014

*Art by Margarita Georgiadis

http://artistaday.com/?p=14273

The Universe is You

universe

 

“To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter… to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird’s nest or a wildflower in spring — these are some of the rewards of the simple life.”  -John Burroughs-

“Sometimes, I sit alone under the stars and think of the galaxies inside my heart, and truly wonder if anyone will ever want to make sense of all that I am.”  -Testy McTesterson-

“Love makes of each moment an eternity
And tends the garden of the heart’s desire
When love mocks, ruby tears fall heavy as pomegranates
And when love looks, it sees your deepest mystery.
Love seeks out the tears of hidden hearts
And turns not from the Lovers of the Dawn.
Is there a remedy for the pain of love?
Or is it too unbearable for thought?
One taste of the medicine
And you will realise just how sick you have been.
Those who plead in the defence of love
In love’s judgement shall find grace
And to that court, Hafiz
May your heart fly…”

-Hafiz-

•Art found on http://zencoma.tumblr.com/post/36047592393

Skeleton Woman

ImageShe had done something of which her father disapproved, although no one any longer remembered what it was. But her father had dragged her to the cliffs and thrown her over and into the sea. There, the fish ate her flesh away and plucked out her eyes. As she lay under the sea, her skeleton turned over and over in the currents.

One day a fisherman came fishing, well, in truth many came to this bay once. But this fisherman had drifted far from his home place, and did not know that the local fisherman stayed away, saying this inlet was haunted.

The fisherman’s hook drifted down through the water, and caught, of all places, in the bones of Skeleton Woman’s rib cage. The fisherman thought, “Oh, now I’ve really got a big one! Now I really have one!” In his mind he was thinking of how many people this great fish would feed, how long it would last, how long he might be free from the chore of hunting. And as he struggled with this great weight on the end of his hook, the sea was stirred to a thrashing froth, and his kayak bucked and shook, for she who was beneath struggled to disentangle herself. And the more she struggled, the more she tangled in the line. No matter what she did, she was inexorably dragged upward, tugged up by the bones of her own ribs.

The hunter had turned to scoop up his net, so he did not see her bald head rise above the waves, he did not see the little coral creatures glinting in the orbs of her skull, he did not see the crustaceans on her old ivory teeth. When he turned back with his net, her entire body, such as it was, had come to the surface and was hanging from the tip of his kayak by her long front teeth.

“Agh!” cried the man, and his heart fell into his knees, his eyes hid in terror on the back of his head, and his ears blazed bright red. “Agh!” he screamed, and knocked her off the prow with his oar and began paddling like a demon toward the shoreline. And not realizing she was tangled in his line, he was frightened all the more for she appeared to stand upon her toes while chasing him all the way to shore. No matter which way he zigged his kayak, she stayed right behind, and her breath rolled over the water in clouds of steam, and her arms flailed out as though to snatch him down into the depths.

“Aggggggggghhh!” he wailed as he ran aground. In one leap he was out of his kayak, clutching his fishing stick and running, and the coral-white corpse of Skeleton Woman, still snagged in the fishing line, bumpety-bumped behind right after him. Over the rocks he ran, and she followed. Over the frozen tundra he ran and she kept right up. Over the meat laid out to dry he ran, cracking it to pieces as his mukluks bore down.

Throughout it all she kept right up, in fact grabbed some of the frozen fish as she was dragged behind. The she began to eat, for she had not gorged in a long, long time. Finally, the man reached his snowhouse and dove right into the tunnel and on hands and knees scrabbled his way into the interior. Panting and sobbing he lay there in the dark, his heart a drum, a mighty drum. Safe at last, oh so safe, yes safe, thank the Gods, Raven, yes thank Raven, yes and all-bountiful Sedna, safe…at…last.

Imagine when he lit his whale oil lamp, there she —it—lay in a tumble upon his snow floor, one heel over her shoulder, one knee inside her rib cage, one foot over her elbow. He could not say later what it was, perhaps the firelight softened her features, or the fact that he was a lonely man. But a feeling of some kindness came into his breathing , and slowly he reached out his grimy hands and, using words softly like a mother to a child, began to untangle her from the fishing line.

“Oh, na, na, na.” First he untangled the toes, then the ankles, “Oh, na, na, na.” On and on he worked into the night, until dressing her in furs to keep her warm, Skeleton Woman’s bones were all in the order a human’s should be.

He felt into his leather cuffs for his flint, and used some of his hair to light a little more fire. He gazed at her from time to time as he oiled the precious wood of his fishing stick and rewound the gut line. And she in the furs uttered not a word—she did not dare—lest this hunter take her out and throw her down the rocks and break her bones to pieces utterly.

The man became drowsy, slid under his sleeping skins, and soon was dreaming. And sometimes as humans sleep, you know, a tear escapes from the dreamer’s eye; we never know what sort of dream causes this, but we know it is either a dream of sadness or longing. And this is what happened to the man.

The Skeleton Woman saw the tear glisten in the firelight, ans she became suddenly sooooo thirsty. She tinkled and clanked and crawled over to the sleeping man and put her mouth to his tear. The single tear was like a river and she drank and drank until her many-years-long thirst was slaked.

Then, while lying beside him, she reached inside the sleeping man and took out his heart, the mighty drum. She sat up and banged on both sides of it: Bom, Bomm!….Bom, Bomm!

As she drummed, she began to sing out “Flesh, flesh, flesh! Flesh, flesh, flesh!” And the more she sang, the more her body filled out with flesh. She sang for hair and good eyes and nice fat hands. She sang the divide between her legs, and breasts long enough to wrap for warmth, and all the things a woman needs.

And when she was done, she also sang the sleeping man’s clothes off and crept into his bed with him, skin to skin. She returned the great drum, his heart, to his body, and that is how they awakened, wrapped one around the other, tangled from their night together, in another way now, a good and lasting way.

The people who cannot remember how she came to her first ill-fortune say she and the fisherman went away and were consistently well fed by the creatures she had known in her life underwater. The people say that it is true and that is all they know.

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes~

*photo found on Pinterest via Luis Daniel Garza Fragoso