issa

black & white sunday: typical

from the tip

of the forest ranger’s broom. . . 

spring departs

~Issa (www.haikuguy.com)

medicinebow6web

Trees…Medicine Bow National Forest

Medicine Bow National Forest extends from north central Colorado to central Wyoming in the United States. The origin of  it’s name, Medicine Bow, is legendary. The generally accepted version is that the Native American tribes which inhabited southeastern Wyoming found mountain mahogany in one of the mountain valleys from which bows of exceptional quality were made. It became the custom of friendly tribes to assemble there annually and construct their weapons. At these assemblies, there were ceremonial powwows for the cure of disease which, in the hybrid speech that developed between the Indians and the early settlers, was known as making medicine. Eventually, the settlers associated the terms “making-medicine” and “making bow”, and Medicine Bow resulted as the name for the locality.

Hop on over to Lost in Translation to participate.

wpc: transient

this rain

a greeting card from heaven

midsummer heat.

~Issa (www.haikuguy.com)

What are the various conditions—past and present, known and unknown—that come together to create raindrops? Scientists have suggested that the interactions between water vapor, dust particles, and wind turbulence within clouds create millimeter-sized droplets which are heavy enough to begin their descent towards earth. And in the process of falling, the droplets accumulate more and more moisture, becoming the raindrops we see on the ground.

wpc_transant

This scientific explanation of how raindrops form invites contemplation of the prior conditions that create vapor, dust, and wind. Each of these transient phenomenon is a telling of the ongoing weaving and unweaving of interconnected threads creating the various phenomena we experience within each given moment.

This weaving and unweaving of threads is noted by Thich Nhat Hanh, “This is, because that is. This is not, because that is not. This is born, because that is born. This dies, because that dies.”

thursday’s special: vernal

just being alive

I

and the poppy

~Issa (www.haikuguy.com)

poppiesthree

“We humans have talented artist, but how can our paintings compare to your masterpiece of the four seasons? How could we ever paint such a compelling dawn or create a more radiant dust? We have great composers, but how can our music compare to your celestial harmony with the Sun and planets-or to the sound of the rising tide? We have great heroes and heroines who have endured wars, hardship, and dangerous voyages, but how can their bravery compare to your great forbearance and patience…” ~Thich Nhat Hanh, Love Letter to the Earth

submitted in response to Lost in Translation’s photo challenge.

life…manifesting again and again

do you also miss

your mother?

cicada ~Issa*

mom

Tulip

In Thich Nhat Hanh”s book, No Death No Fear,  he shares a personal experience associated with the passing away of his mother.

“The day my mother died, I wrote in my journal, ‘A  serious misfortune of my life has arrived.’  I suffered for more than one year after the passing away of my mother. But one night, in the highlands of Vietnam … I dreamed of my mother. …When I woke up…I felt very strongly that I had never lost my mother. The impression that my mother was still with me was very clear. I understood then that the idea of having lost my mother was just an idea. It was obvious in that moment that my mother is always alive in me.

I opened the door and went outside. …Walking slowly in the moonlight through the rows of tea plants, I noticed my mother was still with me. She was the moonlight caressing me as she had done so often, very tender, very sweet…wonderful! Each time my feet touched the earth I knew my mother was there with me. I knew this body was not mine alone but a living continuation of my mother and my father and my grandparents and great-grandparents. Of all my ancestors. These feet that I saw as ‘my’ feet were actually ‘our’ feet. Together my mother and I were leaving footprints in the damp soil.

From that moment on, the idea that I had lost my mother no longer existed. All I had to do was look at the palm of my hand, feel the breeze on my face or the earth under my feet to remember that my mother is always with me, available at any time.

When you lose a loved one, you suffer. But if you know how to look deeply, you have a chance to realize that his or her nature is truly the nature of no birth, no death. There is a manifestation and there is the cessation of manifestation in order to have another manifestation.

…If you can stop and look deeply, you will be able to recognize your beloved one manifesting again and again in many forms. You will again embrace the joy of life.” (pp. 4-5)

In remembrance of my mother’s birthday…who passed away April 19, 2016.

*cited: http://www.haikuguy