this toadwork*
how it squats on my life
and writings now ---
a slackening of the drive
at endless amber lights

 
again and again
they dip into the drain
bulbuls* in a row
whirr of comb and wings
and rumps on full parade
 
* with apologies to Philip Larkin
* song bird in Asia which features in literature,
including Sufi poetry

dawn prayers - 
white breath meets swirls
of incense
 

sunlit clinic -
in the folds of the curtain   
lines of shadow
 

laughing buddha . . .          
at the window where my
mother died 
 

toddler's yawn...      
in Tsechu* masks of gods  
monks leap and swirl
 

the fullness
of a white lily and   
the bee's hum
 

Note:
*Tsechu (Dzongkha  TSE - CHOO): Mask dance festival which is a seasonal event held in spring, autumn and winter.
 

Born and brought up in the Kingdom of Bhutan, Sonam Chhoki was introduced to haiku by her spouse who lived and worked in Japan. She has been writing haiku for about five years. The Japanese forms of haiku, tanka and haibun resonate with her own Tibetan Buddhist upbringing. Her haiku have been published in Asahi, Acorn, Frogpond, Heron's Nest, Modern Haiku and Magnapoets.

a ladybird
traces the lines on my palm...
what does it see
karmic links from the past
what will be my next rebirth

 
moonless night
how deep the stars lie
and this ache
for my mother
I meet only in dreams

 
a few wavery threads
then flames engulf the log
and so
even when I need to sleep
this urge to write

Higher Rebirth

On the first morning bus I sit beside an old monk. We smile, note the frost on the window. In a whiff of juniper and butter lamp smoke, he gathers his maroon shawl around his knees and settles down to doze.

A blue bottle fly alights on his half-opened mouth. Undaunted by the monk's snorts and grunts, it seems intent to invite itself in. Should I nudge the monk awake? I fan the fly away. It heads straight for the monk’s mouth. Should I swat it? Would I not free it from its maggot existence for a higher rebirth?

It wrings it legs and wanders in. The monk moves his lower jaws and splutters out a dark blob.

newly built temple –
on a giant concrete lotus
Lotus-born Guru

A beast shakes Japan

Saturday, 12th March, 2011.

2:46, it says on an old Seiko clock on his mantel. The man has returned to sift through the remains of his house in Ishinomaki town.  He moves out of the way of a camera crew.

'That was the local time, when the earthquake struck,' an English news reporter says in a voice over.

I feel a cold shiver. Memories return of another earthquake.

It is a warm sunny noon (2:53) on 21st September 2009 when a long rumble (6.1 on the Richter scale) shakes Tashigang, easter Bhutan.

Office workers in Tokyo flee as rubbles rain around them.

A young monk is pulled out of the debris of a monastery, his face covered in blood. Women clutching children flee as their houses collapse. Seven, long aftershocks follow. The tremor is felt in Bangladesh and Tibet.

In Iwate and Miyagi Prefectures in Sendai severe aftershocks prevent rescue work.

Watching the news, my 60 years-old neighbour says,' It is a beast that shakes the earth.'

The beast that has thrown Japan into its darkest hour is a formidable one. We light butter lamps.

old plum tree
tangled in the prayer flag
week of the big wave

Hope and Faith

Journal entry: 3rd December, 2008.

Today, 

Hope, the conjoined twin died in Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children, London, during an operation to separate her from her sister, Faith.
'Her lungs were weak and she was being supported by Faith,' the operating surgeon said to the news reporter.

December sky -
rare occultation over*
Venus and the moon.

Reading about the twins across thousands of miles, I am struck by how Faith seems stronger than Hope, even as a concept or emotion. Hope is fragile, perhaps desperate, more easily shattered than steady, stable Faith.

early snow -
still in full leaf
young oaks

Notes:

*Rare occultation: The waxing moon and Venus were in a rare planetary occultation on the night of December 1, 2008 in a display of celestial hide-and-seek over much of Europe including the UK. 

Born and brought up in the Kingdom of Bhutan. Sonam Chhoki first came to know about the haibun on the site  http://contemporaryhaibunonline.com.  The Japanese forms of  haibun, haiku and tanka are quite close to her own Tibetan Buddhist culture. Her haibun have been published in CHO,  Haibun Today and Frogpond. A haibun of hers won the Kikakuza 2011 Za Prize (Highly Commended).

If only...

Threading through the pines a gibbous March moon. Overhead, still a glint of winter in the Capella's yellow glow. I track the Orion and the red haze of Mars. Soon it will be dawn of your birthday. I am numb and cold.

clouds are folding
over the pearly fold—
the day of his death

Born and brought up in the Kingdom of Bhutan, Sonam Chhoki was introduced to haiku by her spouse who lived and worked in Japan. She has been writing haiku for about five years. The Japanese forms of haiku, tanka and haibun resonate with her own Tibetan Buddhist upbringing. Her haiku have been published in Asahi, Acorn, Frogpond, Heron's Nest, Modern Haiku and Magnapoets.

hospital window ---
sun and birdsong bubble-wrapped
in anaesthetics
such warping of the mind
to mend an ailing body

three little words
tossed across the seas
on my screen
his message lights up
a cold wet spring

so much weed
tuts my green-fingered neighbour
how can I explain  
while the garden goes to seed
a tanka or more grows 

Sonam Chhoki was born and brought up in the eastern Kingdom of Bhutan. She has been writing the Japanese short forms for about 5 years. She finds these poetical forms resonate with her own Tibetan Buddhist culture.