ALMOST SEPTEMBER

"Plum Bottom" photo by S. Auberle

In overcast dawn

a woman dances

down the

Plum Bottom Road.

Watching her,

suddenly,

my world

turns sunny.

~mimi

HAIKU MORNING

Photo by S. Auberle

hot tea this morning

brown bread and rosehip jam

autumn in the air

~mimi

STUDY IN YELLOW

Photo by S. Auberle

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

~ Goethe

HAIBUN

Digitally altered photo by S. Auberle

No, this is not a haibun, but funny you should ask...am pleased to say that a haibun of mine (a prose piece of poetry, followed by a haiku) appears today on the beautiful website Haibun Today. Check it out, if you like: http://haibuntoday.com
The above artpiece is also a new endeavor of my adventure into handmade paper making.

DARK OF THE MOON

All photos by S. Auberle

It's not been a good year for mushrooms--the chanterelles and morels were noticeably sparse in the spring and early summer. But now, overnight, an amazing variety of mysterious beings have sprung up in the dark of the moon. The rains have come, at last, and mushrooms appear to be thriving. They carpet the forest floor. Unfortunately, without knowing which species could do me in, I'm not about to try cooking with them. I don't think the ghostly one at the top is the amanita, the Destroying Angel, but it's spooky enough as it is, though quite an elegant species. My appreciation for their exquisite forms and colors will be limited to photographing and painting them and wondering if fairies, gnomes and elves reside there. I really believe it's quite possible...

BEAUTY

Digital Photo Collage by S. Auberle

these wild creatures we are

made of sand and salt and stars,

walking the great circle of life,

loving in enormous,

unending beauty

~ mimi

DAVID

Digitally altered photo by S. Auberle

His faultless body towers over the crowd,

blinding white, naked.

David, whispers the guide,

lost in his daily rapture...

see this, this angle is my favorite,

look at the veins in his arms, the muscles...

a woman tells us how Michaelangelo said

that David was already there,

in that pure block of stone,

simply waiting to be released...

Suddenly, noisy throngs disappear

and I'm alone, mesmerized

by this tall, marble man,

just David and me now,

his muscled arms lifting, beckoning,

my own reaching, answering his,

until a voice whispers

come back, come back

wherever you are,

and breathless, I return to earth,

your warm, encircling arms,

the floor, again cold, beneath me.

~ mimi

BLESSINGS

Photo by S. Auberle

Bless this sun, this summer day,

bless the lake, the trees,

the thrush singing in the oak,

bless that black-as-the-devil raven,

muttering old prayers.

Bless you and me.

Immerse us in August heat

till we burn with joy,

till we remember

what has been forgotten:

how high Icarus flew

before he fell...

~ mimi

OF NOTE

Photo by S. Auberle

Pleased to say that the above photo won an "Of Note" mention in the 2009 Hal Grutzmacher Photography Contest.

"Today, more than ever before,

life must be characterized

by a sense of Universal responsibility,

not only nation to nation

and human to human,

but also human to other forms of life."

~ the Dalai Lama

FOR VAN GOGH

Photo by S. Auberle

I imagine you, Vincent,

on a summer morning

in your village in Provence,

whispering to yourself,

arranging sunflowers

in a cracked, blue vase.

I see you painting them

over and over--your symbols of hope

that you will awaken one day

into a sunny world,

leave behind your darkness

of potato eaters and crows.

But oh, Vincent,

how brief the dance!

How quickly blossoms fade,

leaving only hope behind,

and a trail of yellow petals for us

to follow into the sun.

~ mimi

MAIZE

Photo by S. Auberle

planted corn this year

three rows in hard ground

deer and raccoon had their way with it

and crow and drought

and only a few seeds survived

they weren't meant to be a crop

(just) beings of beauty

now the graceful stalks

lift skyward, further each day

their slender arms a prayer

to old gods

i think of the Hopi

how in that arid land

each stalk of corn is sacred

tended like a child

and i thank these survivors

bring them extra water

listen, with them

to the southwest wind

whispering grow...

~ mimi

JOY

Photos by S. Auberle

"We are all between seven and eleven yars old and we come from Africa. We come from very poor villages and many of us are orphans. Our families find it hard to care for us. Children in our villages often do not learn to read or write because their families cannot afford to send them to school."

If the opportunity presents itself in your area, don't miss seeing the African Children's Choir. They are pure joy...

For more information on this very worthwhile organization, go to AFRICANCHILDRENS CHOIR.COM