“Cardiac Relief by Nicholas D. Moffett, Benson Sculpture Garden, Loveland, CO (July 31, 2017)
— Image by kenne
A haiku is not a poem, it is not literature; it is a hand becoming, a door half-opened, a mirror wiped clean. It is a way of returning to nature, to our moon nature, our cherry blossom nature, our falling leaf nature, in short, to our Buddha nature. It is a way in which the cold winter rain, the swallows of evening, even the very day in its hotness, and the length of the night, become truly alive, share in our humanity, speak their own silent and expressive language.
– Haiku: Eastern Culture, 1949, Volume One, p. 243. Translations and commentary by Reginald H. Blyth
Benson Sculpture Garden, Loveland CO — Photo Essay by kenne
Marching
At dawn I heard among bird calls the billions of marching feet in the churn and squeak of gravel, even tiny feet still wet from the mother’s amniotic fluid, and very old halting feet, the feet of the very light and very heavy, all marching but not together, criss-crossing at every angle with sincere attempts not to touch, not to bump into each other, walking in the doors of houses and out the back door forty years later, finally knowing that time collapses on a single plateau where they were all their lives, knowing that time stops when the heart stops as they walk off the earth into the night air.
“The Rainbow Kid,” Kenne Jaxon with his friend, Fox,
(Benson Sculpture Garden, “The Conversation” by Magdalen Weiner
Loveland, Colorado) — Image by kenne, July 31, 2017
A little boy and his friend always by his side someone to talk to someone to comfort someone to love.