How the Sadness Became A Happiness, A Pujatale by Tasha

Once upon a time
there was a Sadness called Tears
who lived in the silence.

Tears was sad
because she was all alone in the silence.
It was so lonely that she began to cry,
and she cried for a long, long time.

She cried for such a long time
that a big pool of water formed around her.
Pretty soon she was floating.
As she floated she began to feel somewhat better,
but she was lonely because no one else was there.

She began to feel light
and wanted to feel even lighter,
so she kicked off her shoes
and began to dance in the water.

As she began to dance,
she noticed many other beings had gathered there.
They were all playing in the beautiful pool of tears.
They smiled at the Sadness and sang as they played,
splishing and splashing about.

The Sadness began to play too.
Then as they played in the water,
a song rose up in each of them
and they all began to sing.

As she joined in,
the singing grew louder and more joyous.
Soon Tears was so happy
she couldn’t even be called a Sadness any more.
The being that had once been a Sadness
truly came a Happiness,
and her new name was Smiles.

Even after the pool had dried up
and all had returned to their homes,
Smiles remained a Happiness.
Although she was back in the silence,
she was still happy.
For somehow now that she was a Happiness,
even the silence was friendly,
and Smiles the Happiness sang to herself all day long.

 

My Mother Is Leaving

Image“And where are you and what are you doing?”

She said from her raft as it drifted.

My mother is far away even when she is near.

It seems that soon after I call she forgets who I am.

Names swim beneath her raft and evade her mind’s hook.

 

The telephone has become mysterious.

“Where is the voice coming from?”

Her tone is bewildered.

Presently the ocean is calm; the raft drifts on

taking her farther and farther.

 

Mama, where are you going? Why must you leave me

even before you have left.

Could you at least wave from your raft?

Is the shoreline too misty and too far away

for you to see me from where I am waving?

 

My aching heart is cast upon the waves.

Now it dissolves becoming one with the sea.

It surrounds your raft and you. It is with you always.

and my love is part of the sea around you.

It no longer matters whether or not you can see me waving.

 

                     Text and Photo by Tasha Halpert

 

Springing Open

Brilliant forsythia fingers

fling their exuberance

into the bright blue air.

Red budding twigs

holler “here I am, shine on me.”

Forsythia sunshine

fills my eyes, Maple flowers

jingle, “Welcome pollinating friends.”

Spring buds open everywhere

blossoming their way into summer.

By Tasha Halpert

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Passing

Walking to town of a morning
bright on a lawn I pass
I saw dandelions and violets
shining from the grass.

Then on my way returning
the mower had come by;
their yellow and purple beauty
severed and strewn did lie.

Like violets we bloom in the moment
until our moment has past,
and we fall to the blades of time’s mower
like dandelions and grass.

The blossoming of the moment
is ours to enjoy while we may
then like dandelions and violets
we bow to the end of the day.

poem by Tasha Halpert

 

DNA Reflections

“Could that be so-and-so?” I ask, then I recall

when last I saw that face; it could not look the same.

Who was I then? Who am I now?
Have the interleafing passages of time
made changes? My mirror
reflects both now and then.

As leaves fall branches reveal their truth.
As years pass, faces describe ours.

Our DNA resembles that of trees:
rooted in cell memory, skin bark encloses our flesh.
No birds nest in our hair,
only random thoughts
and an occasional prayer.

Words and images by Tasha Halpert Copyright 2013Image

It Tolls For Thee

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As Above, So Below Photo by Tasha Halpert

Heartwings says, “Love is the goal and love is the way to achieve it.”

When a huge tragedy occurs we are all affected. As John Donne, the 17th century metaphysical poet said, Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. On April 15, Whether we were on the scene or safely watching it on TV, we were there. Even if we hadn’t yet heard about it, we were there. It is my feeling that in some mysterious way, we are all connected, interwoven with one another like the cells of a finger or an eye. Yet each functions as we are created to do by our unique makeup.

As we are all connected, when we harm one another, we are harming ourselves. It makes more sense to be peaceful, yet human beings seem to continue to pursue conflict as they always have. Animals that live by cooperation live longer, healthier lives than those who do not. Why is it that part of us attacks another part of us? There may be many reasons given, as many as there are speakers. Not one of them is either right or wrong. It is what it is.

Regardless, the healthier each one of can become, the healthier we all will. Much progress has been made in the last century in so many ways. Most recently is the trend toward men spending quality time with their infants and toddlers, changing their diapers and bathing them. How wonderful for a child to have the care of both mothers and fathers at such a young age. Cigarette smoking was once prevalent throughout our society. Now it is frowned upon by many. Recycling is common, conservation is growing.

Progress is made slowly. Yet sometimes that is best. The slow plow turns a deep furrow. The loving responses of the many as the Marathon tragedy unfolded is heartening to see. Little tales of compassion continue to surface. We might take some small consolation that the tragedy has brought out our best selves, teaching us what  we can do to change the world to a more compassionate, loving place to live. Little by little with each act of kindness and compassion we add to the sum until little else is left but love.

May you find joy in sharing and caring. Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

Elegy for a Tree

This tree that sickens
by the side of a main thoroughfare
Is not permitted death with dignity.

By order of the tree warden
It is cut down, cut up,
ground into bits and disposed of.

When a tree falls in a forest
it absorbs into the earth and becomes
first home, then food, then soil.

This Fall I will miss its familiar horse chestnuts
next Spring, the white blossoms.
A friend is gone.

By the side of the busy street
where I walk nearly every day
there is a raw stump.

Tasha Halpert

A Wee Jingley Rhyme

Aside

A Wee Jingly Rhyme

Every season has its beauty
summer, winter spring and fall
Do not ask me for my favorite
I will say I love them all.

Etched against the sky in winter
trees inscribe their signature;
summer simmers with bright beauty
spring and fall have their allure.

Every season has its beauty
bringing joy and sweet delight
I could never choose among them
All are lovely in my sight.

All creation harmonizes
as the seasons come and go
every snowflake has its moment,
sparkling brightly in the snow.

Every season has its beauty
beauty there for all to see.
As I contemplate its splendor
so it sings its song to me.

Tasha Halpert

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Photo by Tasha Halpert