Cool Announcement: The Bluebird’s Cry by Christine L. Villa

Tears are words that need to be written. -- Paulo Coelho

My Dear Readers:

NeverEnding Story contributor Christine L. Villa published her first collection of Japanese short form poetry (mainly haiku and tanka), titled The Bluebird’s Cry (Price: $12 from Amazon and Createspace ).

About the Author

 An animated story teller and an artist by nature, Christine L. Villa dabbles in children's writing, Japanese short-form poetry, and photography. She is the founder and editor of Frameless Sky -- a video journal showcasing poets, artists, and musicians in collaborative projects. She blogs her haiku, tanka, and haiga at Blossom Rain.

This book begins with a heart-wrenching tanka prose that introduces readers to the author’s great love of her life, John Augello (April 3, 1946—April 8, 2013), and tells how he died after almost a year of round-the-clock care (p. 19).

Glioblastoma

      Finally, we were asked to come in and let my husband lie down in bed and wait for the doctor to explain the results of his CT scan. He’d been complaining about not being able to play the piano like he used to. His left hand refuses to coordinate with the right. He’d been bumping into things. This morning he was frustrated by not being able to put his left foot inside his shoe. There was no way we were going to sit at home and wait for things to get better.

       The doctor walks in and drops the bomb. My heart explodes. My mind starts reeling from all the details I have to comprehend.

by the fountain

with a ring encircling

my finger . . .

all I knew then

was the word forever

... Few things in life are more frightening than the prospect of the death of a much-loved spouse. Christine L. Villa has faced this fear head on. She has turned to tanka and haiku to make sense of this pain, and has placed it in perspective of her journey through this landscape of loss... The poet treats the time-honored themes of loss and grief in a sensitive manner. In the echo of The Bluebird’s Cry, we hear not only a heart crying out in pain, but also the voice of spring and starting over... (Afterword, David John Terelinck pp. 95, 98)

Selected Haiku and Tanka:

a tea rose trembles
with the smell of rain ...
anti-seizure pills

moon cradle
the prayer that becomes
your lullaby

autumn chill
imagining our house
without his footsteps

tracing the cracks
on his leather chair ...
death anniversary

tumbling leaves . . .
I drift where grief
takes me today

fading star ...
the visit from an old friend
who died a year ago

winter's end ...
a part of me wanting
to live

spring sky ...
I bow down to what
each day brings

if I don’t say
the word cancer out loud
will the blackness
of this winter night
become unreal?

a dewdrop dangling
from the tip of a daisy . . .
I try hard
not to let him see
my tears

his stand on
chemotherapy . . .
a bluebird’s cry
nestles in the palm
of sunrise

pink clouds
behind skeletal trees . . .
nothing stirs
as I still wait
for a wisp of hope

sting
of the wind
this winter night . . .
who knows when
and where we will be

icicles
stabbing the pavements—
I tell him
his cancer is back
as if I feel nothing

morphine moon . . .
my courage fading
in and out
as you ask me
where you are

if only pain
fades like color . . .
the smell
of another laundry pile
drenched with pee

every now and then
the flicker of a firefly . . .
still in my hand
all of you I need
to let go

this morning
nobody fills up
the birdbath . . .
the blue jay and I
thirsty for you