shamash says...

Thirst

It's that time of year in this city Somewhere in Asia when we need the monsoon rains like the fish need water; all of Nature is longing in wait for the sky to open up its dark clouds after such a long, dry season of sun.

We all drink much more than we eat. We drink from gallon jugs all  sorts of elixirs: warm water, cold water, watermelon juice, lime juice - with honey, and without- iced coffee, and iced tea. No matter how much we drink, it's never enough.

Send the rains, Mother Earth, Pachamama, the Buddha, Krishna, Allah, Yaweh, and Shiva.

We are all so thirsty.

image by tracy baran via moonriver

Trinity of Loves

I

Am

A trinity

of loves

Leaving two,

I return

to one.

-photo by shamash

Taos Cemetery

New Mexico

January 2006

"And so I fly out of Albuquerque to Los Angeles to Singapore to my home

Here

Where orchids grow wild like the cacti on the New Mexico mesa

Where rice grows like the wild peppermint along the Pennsylvania fencerow down the road from grandma’s house

Where the buddhas of Asia are bigger than inflated snowmen, but no more sacred."

The Flower That Listens

One of my favorite things to do is to walk barefoot in my garden in the mornings (keeping an eye out, of course, for fire ants and scorpions) in my long house dress, feeling all 50's housewife, minus the Valium, minus the martini, minus the man, and very, very content.

Around 10 am or so, the sun is just right, and I sit in my lounge chair drinking in the green and my espresso, filled with gratitude to have this marvelous beauty around me. My regular readers remember when I moved: what a big decision it was. I've had no regrets, especially today when I took this photo.

This ephemeral flower, cha ba ( "the flower that listens") lasts but one day. One of the holy flowers considered auspicious to take as paya (prayer offering) to the pagoda, it is twice as big as my hand, and large enough to function as a living hat.

It grew out of one of the many, giant clay pots in my garden that are filled with water to create mini ponds. I tried adding fish, but the ravens got to them. So, for now, the pots are fish-less, but filled with lotuses, lilies, and water hyacinth. (This image to your right is one of my collections of water hyacinth.) As for the flower: the stem is the thickness of a finger and extends three feet up from the surface; the leaves are large as a child's umbrella.

Like so many things in life, the flower doesn't last long.

But while it's here, what joy, what extravagant beauty.