I've had the echo's of Matsuo Basho's word in my mind these last days since I've come back to MT.
"This autumn-
why am I growing old?
bird disappearing among clouds."
It's an odd winter; today it reached near 60 degrees; giving credence to what is rightly called global warming, or human-caused global warming.
I suppose, in some respects, that I'm back, in terms of what we do here, writing, blogging, whatever we call it. After these last months I feel a bit different about it, less need to write, more urge to what might be called communicating a viewpoint.
The Basho's birds fly into clouds and are gone, they could be figments of our imaginations, shadows at the edge of certainty, borders of seeing.
Like the bird of the Japanese poet, I'm here, or I'm not, depends. We'll see.
I did the beginning of a story in Rivers....it's here
http://costalriverstories.blogspot.com/
Thanks for all your messages and comments these last weeks and months.
Hi Mike! You got me making a long arm and unshelving Kenneth Rexroth's book, "100 More Poems From The Japanese", because Basho's words reminded me of another take by Masaoka Shiki:
ReplyDelete"Shitting in the winter turnip field
The distant lights of the city."
--It has a similar but less mysterious remoteness and has always been a favorite here. I think of it when I hear a train go through the little town 5 miles away, or a siren passing and fading to some emergency.
I am so glad to see your new post.
Thanks, and also for all your comments in the last couple months.
DeleteI'd guess...imagine....given all that in the last 40 years we've been in the same area at the same time.
A great byline to greet me this morning.. Welcome.
ReplyDeleteThanks
DeleteWell, I'm glad you're here now, Bird. Good to have you back; very good.
ReplyDeleteAppreciate the thought Martha.
DeleteNice to see you back Mike x
ReplyDeleteYou too, you oddball brit.....
DeleteIt's very good to know you're back home and writing again. I hope you won't mind me sharing a favorite poem of mine by Rainer Maria Rilke called 'The Walk':
ReplyDeleteMy eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-
and charges us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.
Rilke's work, and yours, is always welcome and appreciated.
DeleteNice to see you back. Here too, it is Juneuary. Might not need a coat for the day's wander. You take care.
ReplyDeleteYeah....when I get the energy, I'll comment on your blog, Robbie.
DeleteNice to see you back Mike, I checked up on you a few times. Onward with the writing.
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
I dunno on the stories....it feels different now, from my end...how I view them.
DeleteAs always I join your friends in welcoming you back. You've been missed.
ReplyDeleteBearded One.....
DeleteI agree, the Van Dyke is the way to go for you....
Really good to see you back in the blogosphere....:)
ReplyDeleteBasho's poem hits home...
ReplyDeleteHi Mike. I just recently learned about Basho...it was in, of all places, a Magic Treehouse book that I was reading to my son. I learn a lot of things in Magic Treehouse books:-) Is Glacier National Park near where you live?
ReplyDeleteGlad you are back in some capacity, whatever it is.
ReplyDeleteNice to see your post today. Yep, I'm still playing catch-up and probably always will. I've always appreciated the work of Matsu Basho and enjoy Haiku, but it always hurt my head to write it.
ReplyDeleteHang in their buddy and take care...