master of ceremonies

at small town wedding party,
invited guests drank and danced
in week-long jewish celebration

“they’ve run out of wine,” she
stated simply yet in urgent tone
to rabbi son seated with disciples

(why should I reveal my powers
to rescue neighbor’s reputation
when it is not my time to die?)

“do whatever he tells you,” she
nodded to shamefaced servants
holding empty thirty-gallon jugs

he ordered them to fill jars
with water, draw out sample
and take it to master of feast

who sputtered after tasting,
“why would the family wait to
serve finest wine until now?”

not watery kool-aid or cheap
wine cooler but velvety merlot
or perhaps deepest sauvignon

gift from him, the vine and groom,
whose wine of blood saves from
shame all who will drink in faith

(see John 2:1-11)

master basho

Frank Tassone invites us to write haibuns on Basho/Shakespeare at dVerse Poets.


 

Matsuo Basho lived simply and walked lightly on the island of Japan. His tiny home was in the village of Edo. One spring day, Basho felt restless and decided to travel by foot across the country. He went in search of cherry blossoms. For his journey, Basho wore a paper hat, black robe, and woven grass sandals. He carried his ink stone and writing paper wrapped in a cloth.

He followed the winding river, sat in a cool waterfall cave, and visited a thousand-yr.-old twin pine. Eventually, he came to an orchard of blossoming cherry trees! A farmer loaned him a horse to ride through a vast, grassy field. He took baths in hot springs and swam in the sea. He ate whatever he found or was given along the way: vegetables, wild rice, noodles, fish.

In the mountains, Basho joined friends for a full moon party. Drinking tea and rice wine, they composed poems together about the night sky. Basho often stopped in his travels to quietly listen and observe. He watched the fog, heard grasshoppers, touched an iris, and tasted rain. Focusing on the moment made Matsuo a haiku master.

 

do not bash basho

170px-Frog_Getsuju

wikipedia image

named himself “banana tree”

writer of frog pond

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Information on Basho’s life taken from a lovely children’s book, Grass Sandals, by Dawnine Spivak with beautiful illustrations by Demi.

 

beloved master

 

sweetest blood-red rose

comes weeping over city

bright tears, mourning star

dying bears love’s stigmata

risen in perfect beauty