Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts

Meeting April 2026

 April is like everything else; it meets you like you meet it. I have known toothy Aprils. Ones that roared their victory over winter's leftover crumbs and devoured them to get even stronger. I've had Aprils that curl up next to me, tucking irrepressible wildflowers into my pocket while my head was pressed to a wall. Those Aprils put their arms around me and whispered into my ear while cherry blossoms rained around us. This one is a curious April, perhaps a little stubborn. Those flowers will bloom, though the wind will blow. And then we will see what colors they take on, what fruits will feed us in October.

the bud doesn't need
to know it's final color
in order to bloom
Photo by Rui Xu on Unsplash

Song Choice for this Groove: What's Up? by Four Non Blondes

Liner Notes for this Groove: This is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings post. The prompt asked us to find inspiration in a group of quotes about April. I think I took a little bit from both T.S. Eliot and Marty Rubin to come up with something that felt like me.


Lucky

It's still too early
for the comfort of newborn green,
but underneath the leafless cherry blossom tree
there are bowls of tea for the ones who aren't here.

In warmer times
I first learned how a splash of water
can lift a scent high enough to soothe a spirit.
I'd almost forgotten

those earliest days
of fumbling unfamiliarity
and how quietly something can change

from part of the background
to something inviting 
deeper consideration.

There is a hidden path here.
I discovered it by going around

the obvious delights,
of the stone lanterns, the pond, and the maples,
to a dark and overgrown thicket of bamboo.

Today, 
I make sure to pay my respects
there, remembering the first time
curiosity drew me.

I greet the gods I find here.
This time I understand the reason
for smiles and tears.

I cup my hands around 
the memories that brought me here
warmed by today's tea
under the leafless tree
and give thanks.

How lucky I was.
How lucky I am.

Three kami in the woods




Liner Notes For This Groove: If you came around via Poets and Storytellers United, feel free to skip this part because it's a lot longer than 369 words. Though I am elaborating a bit on the prompt I gave this week, "looking back".

So for the last couple of weeks I've been looking over all my old blog posts. It's been an interesting experience, not just in showing me ways I've changed as a writer. There are a lot of other changes too. Last September, we lost my mom-in-law. She was the bedrock of my husband's side of the family and navigating a post-Ellen world is just plain odd (when it isn't deeply sad). 

tea with Mom Driks
Tea with Mom Driks

I don't think I mentioned it on this blog, but we also welcomed another corgi into our family, Jelly Bean. Like my dearly departed Kit, she's a rescue. But she's *ahem* a lot more complicated than he was. I think we've finally got her used to the idea that this is her forever home (but she still thinks the ceiling fan is out to get her).
 
Jelly Bean and Lamb Chop
Don't let that cute face fool you. 
She's bossy and anxious.

I quipped on PS&U about the change in my all-time favorite book series. But in a lot of ways that change really does represent a lot of the ways I've changed. I was unaware about lot of things. I'd even say that I was a bit naive. Sure, I still love a generous dose of whimsy and magic. But these days, I relate better to sharply satirical (and hilarious) whimsy that isn't afraid to take a hard look at some of the biggest ways our world is broken. (That the author doesn't appear to be a massive jerk is a bonus too.) There's something to be said for whimsy as an act of defiance.

Dungeon Crawler Carl
You will not break me
from Dungeon Crawler Carl
by Matt Dinniman

I think in most ways, I've become more solid in who I've always been. So what seem like changes on the outside feel more like coming home to myself.

One thing that absolutely hasn't changed is my love of tea. This piece was inspired by a recent trip to Shofuso, the Japanese house and garden in Philly. I actually haven't practiced tea there in ages. Of course, I've been practicing tea, but my tea teacher had the space to build a traditional Japanese tea room in her house. When changes occurred that limited our use of the rooms in Shofuso, the students of Philadelphia Urasenke just went to their tea teacher's homes instead (we have multiple teachers, all with their own tea rooms).

The reason for my visit was a bittersweet one. There was a memorial to honor the passing of two senior members of our tea school as well as the passing of Hounsai Hanso Soshitsu, the 15th generation Grand Tea Master of the Urasenke School. I never met the Grand Master, but Keijiroh and Terry were always very warm and kind people, thrilled to share their love of tea. Terry was the one who convinced me to step up and do public demonstrations. I'll be thinking of her at this year's Cherry Blossom festival, when I'll be doing a string of demos all day long.

Here are a few pictures of my visit:

View of the pond and tree at Shofuso

bridge to the island in the pond




Keijiroh Yamaguchi, Terry Sherwin, and Hounsai Hanso Soshitsu

So that's pretty much it for me. Thank you for reading this far! Anything new in your world? Let's talk about it in the comments.



An Unburied Breath

An unburied breath
can remember its own name
even in the witching hour.
Dreams of my youth startle me
by how bright and close they seem.





Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings, Modern Marvels. The modern invention I'm most grateful for is my new C-PAP machine. Best sleep I've had in ages!

To Heal this Broken World

If my words cannot hold water
let them at least not act as tinder
for those eager to stoke the flames.

If I am struck silent
at the scope of the horror,
let my eyes at least be
brave enough to not look away.

If I can remember
only one thing, let it be
that every needless death diminishes us all.

The ability to kindle compassion
is the only superpower
that can heal this broken world. 





Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem is linked to the Friday Writings Prompt at Poets and Storytellers United.


Heavy Hearted

I have to kiss the world 

twice as hard now. 

I have to feel the weight 

of each leg of every butterfly 

that chooses to alight on my skin. 

 

I have to drench myself 

in the feel of moss 

and twilight colors 

over and over again 

 

to make my heart full and heavy 

with all the world’s subtle delights 

to outweigh the grief it carries. 



By Rommy Cortez-Driks


Song Choice: Nature Boy covered by Aurora


Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writing's Prompt at Poets and Storytellers United. It asked us to use a cliché in an unusual way.

Thoughts on Your Birthday

I wanted to tell you
how I fell in love again
with the sun on solstice morning.
Her warmth pulled me back
to myself and all the living
I have yet to do.

I miss you most in these moments,
when I’d share
another ridiculous whimsy of mine
and you’d take it as seriously
as a selkie takes the ocean.

Maybe this is why you called me Joy.
That never made sense to me.
It wasn't as much joy as survival.

I know the limits of my moth-eaten memory
and no matter what well-meaning people say
it isn’t the same as you still being alive at all,
not even a little.

I am left making up stories instead
about the sun and the stars 
caring enough to watch me

scavenge strands of joy
from the little moments of living,
in the hopes of weaving something beautiful
enough to honor who you were.




Liner Notes for this Groove: Today is the birthday of a friend of mine who passed away. These were just thoughts I had about it. 

Grail Quest

I have made a vow
to be a knight, brave and true.
And now all my vows
compel me towards the grail.

I know there is no true healing
for some of the wounds I have taken.
There are things beyond
even the grail’s power.

But that was never the point.

The pain will not end
when I reach the grail.
But at least then I know
a new quest can begin.

I am a knight, brave and true,
seeking both my reflection
in the water of the grail

and remembrance
of all the adventures 
still left to find.




Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings Prompt, Small Victories.

Shattered

The thing about grief 

is it’s more than the moment of impact. 

It's also the shockwaves 

after the asteroid hits your world. 

 

It’s the cracking  

along the fault lines 

breaking apart continents. 

It’s respecting the rage of the underground rivers 


racing madly where you hoped 

there might be gold, or at least iron

enough to try to make steel. 

 

It’s the near drowning 

in dozens of deep wells of resentment 

before you find any sign 

of a reservoir of grace. 

 

It’s the exhaustion 

in the mental cyclones  

of forgetting and remembering,

wondering which is more painful. 

 

It is also knowing 

that even if every breath  

I take ever after 

is ragged and choked 


there is something in me 

that wants to keep breathing.  




Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United. At the time of this posting, it is a few days past the second anniversary of a dear friend's death. This poem was inspired by thoughts I had when I visited one of our favorite nature centers.