Temecula Haiku

I'm spending the week at a retreat for clergy of the Diocese of San Diego. Since I only engage in activities that include music accompaniment, I have some opportunities to enjoy quiet time when not busy with liturgies. As a result, the following haiku have come into being.

Agua Tibia *
Visible from Ynez Road:
Pine-clad memory.

Crisp, yellow and dry,
Here and there a leaf falling:
Still warm for autumn.

How many seasons,
These rocks in leafy shadows,
Sleeping in silence?

Oak and sycamore:
Other than small flighty birds,
No sign of wildlife.

Summer or autumn?
As the morning sun rises,
Air is fresh and cool.

Even warm breezes

Rustling through the cottonwoods

Refresh the senses.

Amber cliffs' faint glow,

Hills bathed in hazy purple,

At daylight's ending.

---

* Agua Tibia Wilderness near Temecula, California (Spanish word means "tepid water").

Many Enemies, One Enemy

As St. Peter was reported to have said,

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:

   Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world."

(I Peter 5:8-9, KJV)

Depression, resentment, so many manifestations of the evil one. Truly like a roaring lion, the enemy seems always in pursuit.

Jesus said, "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren. 

(St Luke 22, 31-32, KJV)

The Evil One continually plays mind games, i.e. "sifts [us] as wheat" and the more confused we are, the greater his victory. 

Memories, Time, and Recollection

I suppose I'll never have the patience to write extensively about my life. Even if I had anything that approached a knack for skillful writing, my attention span would be too brief to exploit that in any way. Nonetheless, as I grow older, some memories come back time and time again, compelling me to give them some form of expression. Music has been the most satisfying means so far. And very close to music is poetry, a form of writing at which I am an amateur at best, with no formal training.

The following are recollections focused through the lenses of time and a cryptic form of poetry called 'haiku.' The memories are of a childhood journey (I was actually in my teens) through the mountains and desert places of east San Diego County.

---

East and South of the Snowy Ridge

Once I stopped to rest
in the afternoon stillness:
there my heart remains.

That stunted black oak,
its leaves already changing:
listen to the wind.

Lone bird on a limb
swaying in the gentle breeze
sings until nightfall.

Air is crisp and cold
and the evening star sparkles:
I gaze in wonder!

If I leave at dawn,
by tomorrow afternoon
I'll reach the desert.

14 February, 2013