Meri's Musings

For more Haiku My Heart, click HERE .  apprenticed as girls tutored in womanly arts beautiful geishas

It was the year she ate almost nothing,  listened to ambulances scream in pain  outside her gritty apartment windows,  and bought a Saturday night special. The year she obsessively watched reruns  of the twin towers collapsing.  The year she realized life  is a mechanical bull and  her inner thighs weren't  strong enough to hang on. For more 55's, visit G-Man .

Be still, my heart, like the glassy waters at dawn that take on the colors of first light as eagerly as water takes on the hue of paint still clinging to the sable bristles when a color change is called for. "First Light" © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian Whisper to me what it is you want, what things I have to learn that I have turned away from. I am ready now to heed your murmurs if only you'll share  secrets with me like a second grader named Ellie would share her lunch with her best friend forever, a little curly-haired moppet with freckles sprinkled across her nose like wildflowers, whose blue eyes dance like skipping stones across the placid waters, a girl named Chloe whose turquoise insulated bag with matching thermos full of soup was left behind on the kitchen counter in her scramble to run for the bus, because after all, Ellie knows as do I that snickerdoodles taste best when your mouth is full of laughter and your heart has important things to say.

One day You will take my heart completely and make it more fiery than a dragon. - Rumi

Mother Nature is a master teacher. She shows us by example how futile it is to hang on  to something  when the time for hanging on has passed. To blossom when the time is right. And how to just BE.

For more Haiku My Heart, click HERE .  sparks in dusky sky cranes' black-tipped wings fan embers luna's fire erupts

This 55-word stuff is incredibly challenging.  Even if you get a concept quickly,  executing the idea in such a spare format  requires editing and re-editing, constant counting.  55 words, no more, no fewer.  What stays and what's surplus?  Always mindful that every word has to count.  Plot trumps description.  Cohesive narrative required.  Yet for all the brevity,   you want to insert a twist,  bring an unexpected guest to the table. Doodles. © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian. All rights reserved. He went first. The graphoanalyst told them what to write. She studied the exemplars, then said,   "Your wife is incredibly brilliant." She paused. "What does she see in you?" Chuckle. "Oh, I see. You're an animal." Right on both counts. Leopard man.  Once lithe and agile. Sexy.   New substitute wife. Dumb blonde. Same old spots.

To every thing, there is a season. Turn. Turn. Turn. 

A haiku to celebrate this gorgeous and sunny autumn day.   © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian. All rights reserved. the trees shimmering, hanging upside down, water reflecting branches

Revisionist memories of our first romantic getaway when love held such sway: cliffs plunging into watery depths at the edge of the continent, sky and water merging somewhere beyond.  Holding hands, poking around galleries in Carmel, me imagining forever. You, professing undying love, secretly believing you'd find someone better if you kept your options open. 

For more Haiku My Heart, click HERE . light casts a soft glow across stone walls in kitchens where slaves worked and slept

Light gives of itself freely, filling all available space.  It does not seek anything in return; it asks not whether you are friend or foe.  It gives of itself and is not thereby diminished.  ~Michael Strassfeld May the silvery moon hanging in my sky light your way tonight. p.s. these shots were taken about 6:45 pm  Pacific Daylight Time today just down the hill from my house. A matter of five minutes makes such a difference in ambient light.

It's grey again this morning. Drops of rain hang at the pointy edges of maple leaves at the tip-top of the graceful maple outside my upstairs window. The uppermost leaves are showing their seasonal fashions, but the lower ones are still garbed in green. They don't seem to have noticed that change is in the air. Grey days sap my energy. When it's sunny, I'm ready to take on the world, but when a blanket of clouds settles between me and the Sun, I just want to hibernate. This day is different. This morning, my little friend visited, hovering a few feet away so I'd be sure to notice. Notice I did. . .  and felt the same surge of delight I always feel when I see  that flash of green, the ruby throat, the wings fluttering faster than  the speed of imagination. It's hard to think about hibernation when your heart has been touched by a shamanic visitor.  Today, I am writing. Just sent off an essay on nanny harassment to be published on the new website tha

I love wonderful little shops with names like Bliss  or Dwell or Luxe  or Posh. Places with one-of-a-kind finds handpicked by the owner. The kind of shops where sweet scents say "welcome" and everywhere you look, you're delighted. The kinds of places where I'm surprised to find things that say ME in no uncertain terms. Not that I always have to take them home, you understand. I'm paring down, not filling myself up with stuff I don't need, no matter how enticing. (OK - that's a goal. . . but I'm working on it. ) But oh my, it is a treat for the soul and a field trip for artsy-types.

For more Haiku My Heart, click HERE . dew diamonds signal fashion extravaganza pink and yellow skirts

My heart is full of sadness today. Another child been bullied to death. Asher Brown. photo of Asher from the internet To see a story from ABC News, click HERE .  Just thirteen years old and full of promise. Bright, creative, sensitive. A capable student who  aspired to have a career in which  he could help others when he grew up. A joy to have in class, said one of his teachers on his last report card. Slight and short of stature.  Buddhist,  unlike  the Christian norm at Hamilton Middle School in Harris, Texas outside Houston.  And also  beginning to identify himself as gay. Pushed down the stairs. Subjected to repeated intimidation and aggression. Put a gun to his head when he couldn't take any more. Bullied to death for being different. Asher, I'm lighting a candle for you. And  Phoebe Prince. And  Tyler Clementi. And Seth Walsh. And Justin Aaberg. And Billy Lucas. And all the other kids who were bullied to death, whose names I don't know. It's not j

For more Haiku My Heart, click HERE . she kneels quietly holding the world's great sorrow with vast compassion