Rediscovering haiku and looking for healing..

From a series, Japan in Australia, (c) June Perkins

 

Tonight my son was looking for a poetic form  for homework.  The poem had to include many of  his spelling words.  He was able to finally write some when we talked about Haiku.  Rhyming and other kinds of poem were just not working.     He liked counting the syllables in Haiku, and they were short enough for him not to have to look for lots of words.  This made him concentrate on his ideas.  He ended his homework session very happily after feeling terrible about the overwhelming nature of a project – called poetry.

Deep thoughts about Japan came out for him and my dear little son wrote this

Language of Japan

Children speak in scariness

Hope to recover…

By my son

My youngest son inspired me to take the same themes of recovery and fear and rewrite a cyclone poem I had in a draft as three linked haiku.

Sometimes working in any poetic form makes us find more discipline with our words.  It strips away the unnecessary, and makes us find the heart of a matter.

Healing Haiku

1

Glittering in flight

moving beyond noisy night

I need my wing’s sight

2

Translucent shimmer

Healing dragonfly wings beat

Returning green dream

3

No more lies to fear

Gone is nights cyclonic hell

Life’s sparks make me laugh.


I enjoyed writing the above haiku.  I am sure as I write more they will take on more images and ideas until the story becomes clear.    I think I would like to write lots of healing haiku and have others join me- especially children who care about Japan!!  I will talk to my friend Junko and see what she thinks.  Sometimes children show us the way! It would be lovely to have all the haiku illustrated as well.  Each Haiku could be a little pool of light.

I don’t think they would be too hard to translate.  Even if the number of syllables change, they would still have the economy of the structure.

Project — collect 1000 healing haiku for Japan —and send these or post them for mothers and children of Japan to read (maybe by snail mail!), with some translation.


Logistics –  should be uncomplicated, heartfelt, and most of all the struggle for words to really convey the depth of what’s happened can be restrained within the form and kept to just a few words. Sometimes when you suffer a disaster you don’t want a lot of words, just a hug, a warm blanket, and to know you are loved and not alone.

Will you join me…. write your haiku and blessing  and put the link here for me on this post . . . and I will begin to see what happens, we need so many, for so many people, just a little pool of light opening in words, in art.  Maybe my son and I could try write a thousand, but many hands make light work, and many haiku.  Imagine if each person wrote one Haiku each day for a thousand days to think, reflect, on how we are all connected, and how we can heal from disasters of any kind.  That is 1000 days of meditation and intense feeling.  And for it to be converted to any act of kindness, now that would be special also.  I am sure the way will become clear, but for now I begin each day with at least one Haiku – today four  Haiku, one from my youngest and three from me.

I think of Junko visiting schools here and sharing her culture.  I think of words from kids here visiting her back home.

Junko visiting a school in the Cassowary Coast, to share a taste of traditional Japanese culture.

As for Yasi recovery, today my daughter, who is tired and sick quite a bit at the moment,  said she missed all the green trees.  She felt sad looking all around, and sometimes strange inside.    Other times she felt like we were going back in time to our old street, which we have now returned to, she felt younger in some ways.  Yet she felt older too.

I wonder how the children of Japan are  feeling with all that is going on in their country.  We see glimpses of their faces, and letters to the parents who work in the  nuclear plant on the news.

I will think about my daughter’s words.  Maybe they will turn into some haiku or maybe another form of poetry – that will suit the story of her sadness and longing for those beautiful trees and the vulnerability that comes with grief.

I will think also of the children and mothers of Japan, and dream that there is a green belt of light – of optimism that will come to heal them soon.  Can we surround them with 1000 Healing Haiku…..?

(c) June Perkins, all rights reserved, words and images. except for poem (c) my youngest son.

GUINEA PIG, CHOOK HOUSES & DRAGON FLIES

The Guinea Pig Mansion

‘Calico likes to eat his way out of everything,’ my daughter is giggling her story out to a fellow guinea pig lover.  The girls haven’t seen each other for a few months.  We haven’t been venturing too far since the cyclone and not necessarily visiting too many people.  However it’s about time we caught up with these friends.  They live up the road just outside of Innisfail, which was in the path of the cyclone and was for a time where the media thought it was definitely going to hit.  Although Tully, Cardwell and Mission Beach were more severely physically hit that is not to say other areas haven’t felt the impact of the cyclone in other ways.

My daughter’s friend’s Mum and I are discussing what we did with the guinea pigs during the cyclone.  They used cardboard boxes and a washing basket to bring them inside.  We bought ours inside as well.  Ours had straw lined orange plastic crates that were very cheap.  They were very comfy.  I still can’t believe they slept through the cyclone, even with the tree falling on the house.  They only needed an occasional pat when they became just slightly distressed about the whole thing.  Their little squeaks were barely a whimper.

Prior to the cyclone we’d been a bit worried about them as someone told us her guinea pigs all died of heart attacks during cyclone Larry.  The kids knew this and were very watchful of their little ones.

A few weeks before the cyclone was apparent, and made its journey to us, the kids had bought two guinea pigs.  They began with Chocolate and Misty, and the new ones to join the brood were Calico and Soot.  It took a while to introduce them to each other.  When a new set of guinea pigs meet they must have time to adjust to each other.  My eldest explained the psychology of it to me in great detail, as he tends to google all things guinea pig.  They were not getting along yet, but had been getting used to being near each other with pens alongside each other.  The first few meetings a pecking order was being established.  Calico definitely wanted to be boss, but none of the others were having it – especially Misty, who can be rather stand offish, and was not giving over any power.  Sometimes however they were delighted with each other, and purred even.  But then a plane of something would fly over the garden and they’d all be fighting each other.  ‘Guinea pig wars can be slowed down by a towel being thrown over them,’ our googling guinea pig expert told us, demonstrating by dampening the fight with one of our towels.

The days went on in the lead up to the cyclone with quite slow progress to friendship occurring.  Each day the guinea pigs spent some time with each other.  The kids bought them inside for separate cuddle time still though as they were a bit weary of breaking up fights.

Then along came Yasi.    It was very stressful leaving our pet guinea pigs behind in the eye of the storm.  I just had too much to carry with scared kids, cyclone kits, and the worry about how long we really had to take it all to the car and get going.  My eldest son and his Dad were off clearing a path for the car to make it out of the drive way and I couldn’t see them in the dark.  I called out to them- and as I did so dropped some parts of the cyclone kit.  I couldn’t grab four guinea pigs, and two birds to add to the refugees from the home.

Although we lost Peep, we have gained some new friends, like this tree frog.

My youngest son was very distressed about this.  ‘We leave them in the hands of God.’ This was all I could say to comfort him. ‘If they die they died to save you – and allowed us to make it to the car and out of her before the eye of storm ends.’

So we left them.  I thought of them all night, prayed that they were safe in the bathroom were we had nearly stayed.  I really hoped that they were well.  It was such a relief when we saw them and of course Peep – still alive at that stage and Buddy our little quail was also fine.

After Yasi the guinea pigs were rescued from our NG marked home and placed in a cage in the garden of another friend’s house.  They had to be together, we didn’t have the luxury of a spare cage as their other one was a bit cyclone damaged.  We were watchful and put a couple of them inside a washing basked inside the other cage.  We found next morning they had Houdini like made their way out.  They were all getting along famously.  Not convinced we put two back under the wash basket.  Again they escaped, and still showed they were great mates now.    They all snuggled together, and were not going to be separated by anyone -a new home brought a new attitude.

Of course when we had to move them again to their actual new home, our new home, around twelve days later we were a little concerned things might go backwards.  They didn’t like leaving their comfy surroundings much for the first few days, but it didn’t take long and they loved the new home.  We were happy they did not suddenly drop dead like Peep.  Concerned for Buddy we went and tracked down a female quail at the pet store, and paid for her and bought her home.  Buddy has never been happier and they now have quail eggs, although they aren’t particularly good parents to them.

They now have a deluxe apartment no less on our balcony for wet weather, and a couple of out door hutches whenever it is dry and sunny for them.  They kids have purchased them a pet bed which they can’t wait to try out.  My eldest son thinks first of his pets whenever we go out.  ‘They need something soft’ and what about their food and today he said ‘Now Mum don’t forget their vegetables and check their water.’ Which I do everyday when they are away without being told, but I am sure he just feels that little bit extra protective of his surviving pets.  There have also been bath days.  It’s always a lot of fun to watch as all of them love the water, which is not true for all guinea pigs.  They are then wrapped in towels.  I have special old towels for guinea pigs now and they are kept in a cane basket for the kids to access.  They love snuggling their guinea pigs and watching them sleep, which is one of their favourite occupations after eating, and purring.  Although there are occasions on which they indicate they are watching television.

Now the other amazing story of Yasi, apart of the survival of guinea pigs who have hearts of steel, has to be the survival of chook houses.  You would have thought with all of the torn up sheds that a chook house would have  ended up somewhere on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, but no they made it!! We went to check on some friends after the cyclone.  We drove to lots of people’s houses as we couldn’t ring them as the power was out and that was when we were proudly shown the surviving chook houses.  Some people had taken their chooks indoors and others hadn’t but all of our friends’ chooks had made it through.

Last cyclone I saw lots of butterflies afterwards.  This time I don’t see so many –but our new garden has lots of dragon flies.  They have the most delicate wings, and yet they make their flight so easily.  Other friends have seen butterflies though, and one tells me they surrounded her.  It was simply amazing for her as they settled on her shoulders and in her hair.  I love picturing her as a butterfly woman being healed by the butterflies who say, ‘Don’t worry about silly old Yasi.’  I don’t hear this story until a month after the cyclone. Again we haven’t seen each other mainly because we are so busy moving stuff in a Ute from our sodden house to the new one, and she also is busy sorting out insurance and those practical things that happen after cyclones.   She tells me about how she had hoped to have my family out to the farm to go on the walking trails and river to see the land and the crocodiles where her family live.  Her husband had made all these trails but Yasi has knocked the trees and debris over them.  It will take a long time to build them again.

Butterfly from the old home

A poem for healing……..

Butterfly woman

Touched by the healing wings

Knows that nature sometimes

Takes away precious things

But Nature returns more than suffering

Placing the love of purple orchid flowers in my lap

She whispers the sun and rain

To give the forest a smiling refrain

She sometimes is stormy

All bolt and lights that scare in the night

Then she is depositing a Prince from the skies

It will all heal she says and we know she tells no lies

Because once before her son Larry stormed through this space

And people joked he was looking for his takeaway

But now much lost then is returned

And more will return

Giving peace to the butterfly woman

Touched by the healing wings


(c) June Perkins, All rights reserved words and images.

Second piece written during International Writing Sprint with Anita Heiss, Jacque Duffy, Niloofar Davidson and the rest of the writing gang!

A Prince, Cassowary Gift and Handshakes of optimism

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A sea of umbrellas

Beating down sun.  Umbrellas of all colours and sizes.  People of Tully gathering,  Young and old, families, babies, all backgrounds, a throng of people waiting for the Prince to arrive.  They find their spots, on the boundary, in the stands, and some like me wandering to find the best camera vantage points.

The first royal visit to Tully, a second to Queensland.  People chatter with the SES and police.  Red cross staff walk around – maybe they are part of the select 50 guests in the igloo.  Water and ice everywhere in big buckets so people don’t dehydrate.  People waiting for the arrival.  Orange lines marks the middle of the oval.  He will be touching down at some point.  A small emergency helicopter comes.  He will be coming in an army helicopter.  Elderly ladies with young spirits joke they’d like a kiss from the Prince.

I am on the fence line – I have a good spot, my telephoto lens is poised.  I watch and wait to capture a photograph priceless for my family’s memory.  I chat with all around me.  I may not know their names but there is much I know of what they may have been through.  A warmth is rippling through the crowd.

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Radiant Crowd Members

Tropical clothes, shorts, and warm colours all around. I am dressed in blue with a blue glass necklace.  My daughter is in a cherry dress.  My youngest wears his Aussie shirt, green and gold, and plays his guitar.  Eldest chats with high school kids- he is in a black Beatles shirt.  Hubby is in a PNG shirt my Mum gave him when we visited Tasmania. I can’t look for friends in the crowd, I am focused on finding some photos to remind me of this day, but I speak to them whenever I spot them.  I see people I haven’t seen for months.

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Prince William Arrives

As the helicopter lands a group of girls squeal.  They are making me giggle.  They are media darlings, and reporters interview them.  The media wander in the crowd, but they are also part of the crowd, like all of us trying for a glimpse.   They feel the excitement of the crowd, and join in.

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Girls being interviewed about the Prince’s Visit

I am filmed taking photos.  I take photos of media, people being interviewed, the crowd, the stands — I am really enjoying it.  People are calling out.  Waving.  They are full of joy.  They are amazed that he has actually arrived.  This is no rumour any more.

He is off to the igloo, to meet a few special select. We wait out in the heat.  We chat with each other, some people grab water, my son plays the guitar, and the channel 7 camera men are taken with this pint sized guitarist, they want to film him but his camera shy, but they still chat to him for quite a while.

The kids are with Dad, I am quickly off again to find a good camera spot.  Climbing into the stands, I find a midway point that will be good with my lens.

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Prince Meets and Greets

I chat with an old school teacher of one of my kids.  She hasn’t realised our old house didn’t make it through the cyclone, it had a tree come through the roof.  I speak to her of people’s kindness.  I am still watching for pics.  Now the Prince is out again.  He is following the fence line.  He is shaking hands, stopping to talk, and is given a cassowary sculpture.

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Prince William Receives a Gift — the cassowary

A kid runs up to the stands, ‘I shook his hand’ and  she ‘s so excited.  Some of my friends receive handshakes. I even photograph some of them saying hello.  I am the observer. I don’t need a handshake I want to witness their joy.  My  youngest son is on his Dad’s shoulder, waiting for a glimpse.  I am still perched in the stands.

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Greeting the public..

Anna Bligh is there, in his shadow, but radiant.  Her slouch hat shades her.   She stops to speak to children especially.  She is smiling warmly at them.  The Prince has no hat.  Someone says ‘he needs to be careful in the sun’.

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Premier Anna Bligh

The crowd almost Mexican wave.  They wave at him.  A sign that has been made for him is passed across, and it’s kept. The people are happy.  They know he will be gone all too soon.  They cheer, stand up and wave.  He is heading back for the helicopter.  What a strange life, shaking hands optimistically, watching people wave, looking at destruction and rebuilding.  I wonder whether he will give the cassowary to his wife, or maybe the Queen and how it will look in the royal palace that royal bird.
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We are watching the helicopter depart, and then we are moving in the wave of people, the healing wave, of people who have had optimism’s handshake.

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Farewell

It’s so hot.  We go home, swim and later have delicious ice cream.  When we watch the news we see that he has gone on to Cairns, Royal Flying Doctors, and he is still doing the Princely thing.  Our golden gumboot is on the news as Heather Ford from channel 9 gives a report from Tully.  She says ‘half of Tully were there.’   I think she’s right.  She is smiling, as if she has caught the healing positivity something surreal and special can bring.

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Heather Ford, Channel 9 Newsreader Queensland


(c) June Perkins, all rights reserved words and images, written permission must be sought for reproduction.

 

Published this in ABC Open’s I was There Project March 2013.