I am writing because the blog lost the last five stanzas--sorry...
Soshite
Cold outside
fingers cramp and freeze
my age
is showing
like a fallen slip
so...
slap on the blush
gloss the lips
piggy bank more time
I'm not ready for elderhood
my heart
is still a child
my body
is merely
disobedient
so...
I will wear a hoodie of youth
keep
red riding hood
Riding
insecurities
keep me young
my mind
is always changing
indecision keeps
me growing
I like it that way
which way do I turn
Right
Left
I'm not sure
So...
let's keep going
straight ahead
follow the coyotes walking
in the middle of our streets
now we've banked time
yellow lights turn to green
uncross your fingers
uncross your legs
the clock is ticking to our pulse
breathe
inhale-exhale
squeeze
the stale air out
backbend and open your heart
So...
forward bend
balance
go out of your head
savasana
on your feet
open the window shades
look see listen
next moment
tell me more
12/19/19
Photo: Genie Nakano
a Mural in El Segundo, artist ?
A short Haibun below the video–“Guardian” which explains how these mudras worked to heal my Rheumatoid arthritis.
Genie Nakano, Ardha Chandra Mudra
Gentle Yoga exercises and Mudras “Mohiniattam” for hands. Keep your hands supple, soft and strong.
In 2012, I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid arthritis. My hands were starting to be deformed. This is part of a haibun I wrote. I had a dream that told me to use these mudras to heal my RA. Here is a excerpt of the haibun:
The Guardians…..
Suddenly this week–11 years after his passing–my father is visiting my dreams. He doesn’t answer my question about afterlife. But in his usual black beret, he takes me to a house with a massive front yard–acres big. It needs watering–and together we decide it needs more trees.
Haiku… Dad says in my dream your therapy
The next day I see acupuncturist #6 for the pain in my fingers. Looks like Rheumatoid Arthritis. I go home, sleep for 16 hour and dream.
I dream about my Mohiniattam dance teacher. She is sitting on a lotus doing the 24 “Mudras” of Mohiniatam. Dad walks into the “after party” with my cousin. The look happy, glowing and laughing as they walk. He looks at me and smiles.
The next day I go over the mudras neglected for years–yet my fingers remember.
my hands and fingers open to mudras memorized by heart ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did the mudras everyday and my hands healed. And as you can see they look normal.
I'm here
on this great American holiday--
Easter
Buddhist-- tho I am
so didn't make a ham
made bread and Passion Fruit jam
didn't mean to rhyme
just came out in time
to be silly and nonsensical
in this era of pandemonium
tell me--
will I be able to look back
laugh this day away
who is to say
yet, I am here
watching robie robot
do his dirty work
picking up the dog hairs and morsels on the floor
my virtual theatre class starts at four
9 smiling actors
waiting to be discovered
now hiding undercover
in a state of doom
but here we act
in this room
maybe tomorrow I will get cast
if this elder is lucky to last
Oh yes,
I've been thinking this way
reading all the stats
it's us elders who are cursed
I was looking forward to my time
sitting upon a throne of wise-dome
do I have to worry
my heart beats strong
but my lungs have been abused
Newports, Salems, and Golden Kents
marijuana up in smoke
does that mean I'm dead
Only time will tell ya
better do my yoga
Genie Nakano at 2:40 PM, Easter Sunday, April 12,
(I'm a flower child through -- born May, 1948 "make love not war--PEACE)
Photo: Genie Nakano, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico–a ceiling mural
This poem was written by my friend Aya Yuhki. She is currently the editor of "Tanka International", in Tokyo, Japan.
All I can do
softly
when the winds
caress the door of fate,
I will open it for you.
a bare tree stands
with silver branches
stretched to the utmost,
I will gaze at the clouds with you.
at waters' edge
a reed stands almost broken
by winds,
I will be brown together with you.
for the sake of hungry birds,
in this winter brought by the cold waves
of global warming,
I put a feeder in my garden.
once born,
with one hundred percentage certainty
Death comes;
we will share the time on the earth.
to accept you,
to stand by you,
to give a little,
to share the time on the earth,
this is all I can do.
Aya Yuhki
I left the world. It was getting too heavy, surreal like a Dali nightmare. Clocks falling off trees, big blinking eyes in the clouds. Plus a pandemic was going on. The White House announced it on Friday and the Eagle didn’t fly. So I decided to leave the world. I made a deal with my dreams. The deal was–pick one of my dreams and I could be there.
I chose the misted magical forest with a small stream running through it. This dream was special because it had a marvelous scent. Though my dreams are always in color most are not gifted with fragrance — this one was. As soon as I got there–I knew I made the right choice. I was in bliss the moment I opened my eyes.
There weren’t any people around so this made life easier — only me. I walked around and thought about people. What I liked about them and also what I didn’t like. It started to become a comedy reel — seeing all our blunders in one big laugh. Well that didn’t last long. Very quickly, the tears started falling. I couldn’t figure out why there are so many killings, wars, poverty, and suffering. And then this pandemic that was killing more and more people everyday. The plumber told me it was God’s will. But is god that cruel? I wanted to say–Buddha wouldn’t do that. But I didn’t think of that until he left. Then my neighbor chimed in and said the pandemic was the Democrats fault. A cold wind started blowing hard — a good excuse to go inside, close the door and leave the world.
It was twilight time and I started to miss people. So in this world of bliss, I decided to leave and return to L. A. Because of my age, I’m quarantined. But I think I’ll make life. I’m breathing pretty regularly. After all, I like humanity–people scurrying around doing things I don’t understand. I want to keep my heart in meditation mode–wide open. So in ten more breaths — I surrender.
Genie Nakano 