One

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And we know, that we only have
the resources we are given,
And that is how we are made:
To see two where there is one.
But this is where we begin,
and we can go everywhere from here.
Look at how there are two,
The sloping diagonal of the hill
and the gentle rise of trees,
The verdant moss of life’s green,
The fiery reds of season’s end,
The skyward grace, the earthward pull,
The last breaths glowing bright,
The humble, slow rise to life.
I look at one, and see the other,
My gaze cannot rest on one alone,
Separately they can’t fill me.
One thing bleeds to the next
Until I realize that it is I
who have needed demarcations,
You as apart from myself.
I look now, to this body of mine,
That has failed me in less ways
Than it has abundantly granted me,
And stumble over the parts
I have rued for too long.
The inward breath – halting rise.
The outward breath – staggered fall.
Two of the infinite manifestations
Of how we come to live,
And I know it must come to this:
To bring the self to perfect stillness,
Where boundless beauty multiplies
Not in succession, not points in time,
Not through clashes, or with walls,
But this, only this, only now, all of it love.
 
– Tammy Takahashi
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All the Brilliant Things

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sometimes
i want to gather
the most exquisite patterns
the most transporting paintings
like a mural-sized piece of outsider art
I found once by a Japanese artist in Toronto
that put a lifetime of colour and emotion onto one plane
together with the books
that fold all the way through time
that i can only spread out in my imagination
and it is not a spreading out so much as
a tunneling through, an accordion expansion
so that i can traverse them as i would
a dense forest trail in which everything lives
and also every loved one
i would like to gather
all of this brilliance around me
like a pile of crisp autumn leaves
and I’d like to take a deep breath at dawn
and finally, finally understand what i have,
and say thank you for waiting, and dive right in. TS

Harmonies

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There are times when

my offering is feeble,

When I don’t know

the rhythm of my heart

or where it might

enter it harmonies.

I am sorry. I am sorry.

I carry you inside me

as I take hesitant steps,

adjusting to the light

and finding before me

in perfect unison

petals lacing stems

fiery colors meeting

the sun,

not the slightest

discord among them.

How they breathe.

How effortless it is.

How they offer

the totality of what they are

Without self-consciousness,

shame or pain.

How so much joy

arises from this. – TS

The Gold of Day {Poem}

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I edge closer to the

Small leaves turning

Autumn red

And dive in

Entranced by the

Velveteen richness,

Become swallowed until

I emerge bounding

On the other side,

Deep in the Himalayan forests,

Among the tall, thin saplings

Where the white fox dog

Has been waiting

For our return,

And leaps over

Panting his joyous breaths

And we sit, side by side,

On the slope of the

Forest mountain

The moist earth our cushion

Watching the sun trickle down

A slow fractal descent

In the gold of day

– Tammy T. Stone

My Street Japan. Day 18. {Photography project}

My Street Japan. DAY 18. Tammy T. Stone

My Street Japan. DAY 18. Tammy T. Stone

Today it’s all about contrast, with a little bit of “kawaii” (cute) thrown in, thanks to the yellow banner with the cartoon on it!

I just love the contrast between red and green, the most powerfully contrasting colours on the colour wheel. Have you ever placed bright green and bright red side by side? The effect is dazzling – they just cause each other to shimmer in a virtual dance before your eyes!

Here, the reds are more darker, more richly textured and subdued, autumn-style, but I still love the dance each of these trees is doing alone, and the one they are doing together …

My Street Japan. Day 16.

My Street Japan. DAY 16. Tammy T. Stone

My Street Japan. DAY 16. Tammy T. Stone

Today, with these gorgeous colours, the fall berries, even the burnt umber backdrop replenishing the scene, it’s all about autumn! Because of this, I’d like to reprint a poem I’ve recently written with this very theme:

Poem to Autumn

Autumn

I am growing old with you

Turning to dry, to dust

I stand in crisp wind

And feel the royal descent

The weakness in my bones

A soft bed of fallen friends

Under my dear, cracked feet

My heart is full of hesitation

My memories have not let go

They congregate around thin veins

Stubborn, steadfast and sad

Autumn

Let me grow old with you

How you breathe into all this

I need to know there is time yet

Before the long stretch sets in

I never quite learned to dance

In sweetest hued rapture

Draw me into your twilight pause

Under a brave, half-dressed tree

Aware of the hardening ground

Exalted before last sounds

xo