At the beginning of September I came back to my birthplace. Nothing of my mother remained. The grass in front of mother’s room had withered in the frost. Everything had changed. The hair of my brother and sisters was white and they had wrinkles between their eyebrows. We could only say, “We are fortunate to be still alive.” Nothing more. My elder brother opened an amulet case and said reverently to me, “Look at mother’s white hair. You have come back after such a long time. So this is like the jewel box of Urashima Taro. Your eyebrows have become white.” We wept for a while and then I composed this verse:
if taken in my hand
it would vanish in hot tears
autumn frost
© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)
The soil was where our story began ~
We were farmers and during the coldest winter, harshest depression, or strictest rationing, we always had a spare morsel for someone with empty hands. Great grandfather passed down a love for the harvest; his son carried forth that responsibility. Some of us shared that love for the land while others tried to get the last dime from her. Dimes are spent rapidly and with little memory. The land has been faithful and gives back to those who dig deep…
still warm to the touch
memories flow with the tears
you have never failed
The Carpe Diem prompt today is from the wonderful haibun from Basho. “If taken in my hand” fills me with new and old memories as my hands return to the soil this season.
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Reblogged this on The Leatherbound and commented:
Wow, love this imagery!
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Thank you so much for reblogging so sweet of you!
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This is so be beautiful; it makes me rethink what I want to do with my mom’s house now.
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aww – so many memories to hold close in our hearts
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So many tears but also joy exist within a house.
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Memories…they always make us nostalgic. Nice imagery is drawn … loved it… 🙂
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__Moonie_!
“hand to soil”
__Your words, your last comment at my blog, are so fitting here… at this fine verse package. _m
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yes my friend we tend to echo off each other which I believe is a gift!
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Enjoyed this very much —-!
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memories are what brings us to tears they can bring us joy or sorrow.
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Indeed a lovely poem…something about the feel of the earth.
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Very clever, bringing the dimes in, and making that statement
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Dimes used to be of some value now they are like the long forgotten penny. Thanks Hamish
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so sweet memories to cherish
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I do enjoy Basho’s poetry. Lovely words!
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Beautiful, sad and emotive. Thank you.
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I enjoy your blog so much! It is inspiring and beautiful. I would like to gift you with this nomination:
https://awomansaved.wordpress.com/2015/05/05/blogger-award/
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thank you so much for your kindness and your gift.
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