12 Poets in "Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom" edited by Maja Trochimczyk

 

Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy & Wisdom

 ISBN 978-1-945938-57-3 (color hardcover)

 ISBN 978-1-945938-58-0 (color paperback)

 ISBN 978-1-945938-59-7 (eBook) 

https://moonrisepress.com/crystal-fire-anthology.html

It has been a real pleasure and a joy to gather poems, edit the anthology, and organize events to promote this collection of positive poetry in our chaotic times. Illustrated with paintings by Ambika Talwar, the “Crystal Fire” anthology gathers poems of joy and wisdom by 12 poets, 8 women and 4 men: Elżbieta Czajkowska, Joe DeCenzo, Mary Elliott, Jeff Graham, Marlene Hitt, Frederick Livingston, Alice Pero, Allegra Silberstein, Jane Stuart, Ambika Talwar, Bory Thach, and Maja Trochimczyk. 

The poets span all ages and diverse life experiences. They include émigrés from Poland, Cambodia, and India, and those born in the U.S. College professors join community poets. Native speakers appear alongside those for whom English is the second, or even the third language. The ”joy and wisdom” they write about are also different, as each poet follows their own path and gathers unique reflections to share with their readers. The spectacular cover art and paintings to start each section are by poet Ambika Talwar, a talented painter and poet.

Mary Elliott, Bory Thach, Marlene Hitt, Alice Pero, Joe DeCenzo, Ambika Talwar and Maja Trochimczyk at the Opening Reception and Reading of the Sky Garden Exhibition, October 16, 2022, Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia. 

In the Preface, I described the inspiration and philosophy of the book as follows: 

"The title of this anthology comes from my poem “The Year of Crystal Fire” written at the end of a very long and convoluted love story that has a lot to do with the ancient Chinese legends of nine-tailed foxes. Initially, the title of this anthology was to be The Year of Crystal Fire, just like the poem, but why limit ourselves to just one year? The phrase of “Crystal Fire” may be seen as the  symbol of all humanity, with each person born from the union of man and woman, the male and female DNA strands interlocking in ever new patterns to create human beings. In this phrase, "Crystal" stands for the feminine and “Fire” for the masculine. “Crystal” is peaceful, somewhat static, but well-constructed, stable, and growing slowly into perfection. It is the cosmos of order and being. Remember, only women give birth (though some want to construct artificial wombs and detach humanity from its roots). In contrast, "Fire" is dynamic, sometimes intensely dramatic, always changing, always transforming, constantly in the state of flux. It is the energy of change and growth. It is also destructive, demolishing  solid structures of the past to make room for the new. “Fire” means destruction and becoming. It is pure chaos." 

"The Universe arises from the dance of these twin forces, like yin and yang, but neither is pure darkness, negative and “evil” and neither is pure light, positive, and “good.” Instead, they are the ageless vortex  of cosmic unity and chaos, of creation and destruction. There is no value assigned to this polarity, for such labels are limiting and deceptive. Both aspects are essential, each  cannot exist without its twin. Both are good AND evil, both are positive AND negative. ”Good and positive” when coupled with the other. “Evil and negative” when alone. These are the polar opposites of stagnation and decline—or constant movement and the total destruction of all life. The feminine elements of "earth" and "water" endlessly dance with the masculine elements of “air” and “fire.” Do you agree with me?"

My poems are listed and a sample poem is copied below.                                                                

 

Blue Arches by Ambika Talwar, from Crystal Fire anthology.

 

Maja Trochimczyk ≈ 127

1.      The Year of Crystal Fire  ≈  128

2.      A Black Velvet Butterfly  ≈  129

3.      Repeat After Me  ≈  130

4.      The Infinity Room  ≈  132

5.      Pelicans   ≈  134

6.      Liquid Opal  ≈  135

7.      The School of Birds  ≈  136

8.      Alchemy in the Hills  ≈  137

9.      The Stillness of Trees  ≈  138

10.   Imagine a Star… ≈  139

11.   Arbor Cosmica  ≈  140

12.   Like Grapes on a Vine  ≈  142

13.   A Starchild’s Lesson  ≈  143

14.   Today Is for Us  ≈  144

 The Year of Crystal Fire 

Soft patter of pink rose petals

falling onto the floor. The scent of French Perfume

in the air. The heartbeat  stops. The world ceases its rotations.

 

I see the light in your eyes shining

through the slit in your motorcycle helmet,

as you pass me on the street. In a millisecond

of recognition you take me in—whole,

serene in turquoise and aqua—then, you look away

far into the past we shared so shamelessly,

beyond measure—

             the year of passion

             the year of dogs that brought us together

             the year of longing

             the year of dolphins dancing on salty waves

             the year of absence

             the year of waiting in darkness 

the year of tiger lilies

the year of nine-tailed foxes—

                             smooth with seduction and delight

 

Yes, I liked that year the most—

as we grew into our demonic, daimonic selves,

created new galaxies, parallel universes

out of our other-worldly love.

Timelines shift.

The cosmic windows

keep opening and closing.

Soft patter of pink rose petals

on the flying carpet takes me into

            the year of passion

            the year of tiger lilies

            the year of diamond kites

soaring above hilltops

            the year of stardust

            the year of crystal fire

The other poems are listed, along with a copy of the preface on Moonrise Press blog. 

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-publishes-crystal-fire.html

More poems from the anthology are featured in a post about the exhibition:

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html

At the opening of the Sky Garden Exhibition with two books and photographs in the background. Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia, CA.

Poems from the Crystal Fire anthology and from the Bright Skies collection were presented at two readings at Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia, California. The readings were to mark the opening on October 16, 2022 and closing on November 20, 2022 of an exhibit of Ambika Talwar's paintings from Crystal Fire and my photographs from Bright Skies. The exhibition, entitled "Sky Garden" and curated by Susan Dobay, presented just 12 paintings and 12 photographs, but gave rise to a series of events, including two poetry readings from the books. The exhibition was also visited by singer, guitarist and song-writer Piotr Kajetan Matczuk of Poland, who gave there a mini-concert. 

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/11/sky-garden-exhibition-closing-on.html

Maja Trochimczyk with Piotr Matczuk at Sky Garden Exhibition, 5 November 2022

Poet Bory Thach, included in the anthology and participating in the readings, shared the following comment about the book and readings: "I really appreciate everything that you do for the arts, especially how you strive to be fair and include everyone through well-deserved recognition.  It's great to be surrounded by such positive poets with a wide variety of perspectives and insights that can be shown through their poetry.  Being a writer I always try to learn something from every artist that I meet.  The best part about our group is that I get to read amazing works by different authors, experience their views as well as fresh images and new ways of looking at the world.  As a result, I have the privilege of gaining valuable knowledge and wisdom.  All because I encountered so many poetic pieces as your editor.  I'm just grateful to be able to take away at least one thing every time I open a book.  It is like a step closer to enlightenment!"

Joe DeCenzo, Elzbieta Czajkowska, Susan Dobay, Maja Trochimczyk and Bory Thach at the Closing Reception of the Sky Garden Exhibition, November 20, 2022.

Where Does Poetry Come From? Freeways, Riverbed, Roku, Online Shopping...

Once upon a time, in Poland, there lived a humorist of great wit.  He wrote a lot and was quite popular so once a silly female fan asked him: "Master, where do your ideas come from? Like, from your head, or something?" The joker answered, "No, my dear lady, straight from my leg..."  I may have misremembered the joke, but the point is to think about the source of poetic inspiration. Where does it all come from? Why do I find it so hard to write on a prompt, assigned topic or a quote?  Yes, I can write these things, but then they feel dense, boring and lame. 

Sometimes, poems come to me (only in English) when I dream: I wake up with an almost ready poem. It is all good, if I write it down right away, but not so good, if I forget -  as was the case with "I am in love with Luo Jim" - that was complete upon waking up and then forgotten. It caused me a lot of trouble to reproduce it afterwards.  Poems also come when I'm relaxed and otherwise occupied with straightforward tasks like driving on a freeway, or on a near empty street. Swimming, gardening, going for walks, or meditating are also good places to find poems. Meditation is strange: So often, instead of clearing my mind of random thoughts, I get a poem while I train my breath to deepen, slow down and become more regular. The breath of life... prana. So, let's read some quotidian poems that came into being in such silly ways. 

Let's start from the melting moon, that I saw disappearing behind the ridge of hills while driving south on the 210 around six p.m., close to sunset. The hills were orange and purple, the moon, not quite full yet, unfinished. When I looked back in the mirror I saw the sun at the same level, getting redder as it was setting.  What does the melting moon remind one of, while driving when anything can happen any time? The passing of life, of course. So, here it is:

A Wish Upon a Moon

The snowball of a moon
Melts into brow summer hills
 at sunset.

It looks unfinished
as if a painter abandoned
the imperfect draft
before completion.

And so our lives
melt into timelessness,
leaving behind disheveled words
a stack of dreams
and scattered wishes.

“All shall be well” –
the poet confirmed.
His words bring us comfort
while we exhaust ourselves
with doubt, worry and regret.

All shall be well”
And all is well –

You know,
the melting moon
will come back. 

(c) 2022 by Maja Trochimczyk

Another "driving" poem came from a red-light stop on a Friday afternoon in downtown Los Angeles. Our dear friend, ballet master and choreographer Stefan Wenta died, and I was looking for a suitable red-and-white wreath in the colors of Polish national flag to present at his funeral.  The best place to find these is, of course, the flower district.  I stopped and looked ahead. The cross-street was named "Arcadia" for garden paradise of peace, yet right down I could see the ominous towers of the county jail. The contrast was just too stark. I used to work at the Midnight Mission on Skid Row and drove down there daily in the past, but it's been years since I saw the human misery concentrated in this strange corner of the City of Angels, full of warehouses, garbage, vacant lot and new loft developments for yuppies. The poem is a straightforward description of what I did and saw that day.

DTLA

Downtown Los Angeles.
At the corner of Alameda and  Arcadia Street
Two dying palms with shredded leaves
struggle to ornament a bleak landscape
of cement and asphalt.
Narrow vertical slits of windows
in thick walls of gray towers look like gaps
for archers in a medieval fortress
of granite and slate.

Here they keep inmates of Men’s Central Jail
from suicide or murder. Nobody can break
this glass. Nobody can jump. Thousands
pass through each year.
Bedraggled men on the next corner
dig through a heap of cardboard
looking for the best pieces to make
shelter on the sidewalk for the night.

All stores close at six pm. Gaudy rolls
of sparkling fabrics in a dance store
brighten the scene with artificial cheer.
Few tents are up. Night residents
are not back yet from the day of panhandling
and food kitchen lines. In a vacant lot,
a white balloon, smudged with dirt,
rolls along the skeletal remains of weeds.

I find the last florist open by an emptyspot.
I buy the first red and white wreath I see.
Perfect! I order a ribbon with inscription
and delivery to the funeral mass.
I leave with a bouquet of my own.
Driving home, immersed in the dense
Sweetness of stargazer lilies, I sigh
heading back to my world of gardens,
birdsong, mountains, feisty hummingbirds
and two mourning doves caressing each other
long after making love in the driveway.

The heady scent o five-petalled stars
reminds me of the broken promises
of yesteryear and the brightness
of tomorrow.

Stargazer lily from Wikimedia Commons. I cannot find my own, so there...

The next poem is a reflection on my unwillingness to turn back time. Once, a co-worker asked me, in earnest: "How much would you pay to become 20 again?"  His answer was $200,000, but I said "Nothing - I'm so happy I'm not twenty, ignorant and out of control emotionally. I'd never want to go back to being that." Not even a perfectly beautiful, young and fit body would compensate for the deficiencies of experience, the vacuous ignorance of mind and heart. It took me lots of lessons to come to the place of wisdom and I'm still learning, so I cherish every wrinkle... 

Here's what I learned from buying a sofa online. My first such experiment, justified by two points. One - to spare myself from hours wading through stores full of sofas. Two - because it looked just like my old one, so it could be put in the same place.  It turned out to be faux leather, not leather - even better, for I do not want to decorate my home with trophies from killing sentient beings. Though I still wear leather shoes and carry purses. Vanity is hard to discard... But  it is a humorous poem. The word "Sofa" is funny in itself, try saying it several times in order: sofa, sofa, sofa... 

The Sofa Dilemma

I bought a sofa
To replace an old sofa
Placing toe online order
From the old sofa full of holes
To bring a new sofa
And take the old away in a few days.

I bought a sofa
To replace another sofa
For they look the same.
It will be as if time reversed and went back
To 2005 when this shredded sofa
Was still my sparkling new sofa
In camel or cognac leather –
These names are so strange.

So did I buy this new sofa
To reverse the time flow
And find myself when I was still
Deluded with illusory hope
For life that was not meant to be?

Was it a hiccup of memory,
a sudden echo from the past?
No I just bought a new sofa
To precisely replace a zombie sofa.

That's all. I'm pleased.

Finally, my dream poem of a dream hero of manufactured dreams from a Chinese costume drama TV series. Watching Chinese and Korean fantasy dramas became my favorite past-time. They are not as vicious, cruel, mindlessly unfunny, or sentimental as American productions. They are mostly "upright" and teach obvious lessons of the love of the country, compassion for the poor, value of service and integrity, respect for parents, faithfulness to loved ones and friends, loyalty and love till death us part... 

The costumes are fantastic, the hair and robes long and flowing... Wide sleeves and black tresses float on the breeze when the heroes and heroines fly around. Who wouldn't want to fly? What's not to love? Plus, in a streaming mode, it is fairly easy to fast-forward through the scenes of war or torture, or scheming conversations of wicked villains. Alas, the English translation of subtitles is often abysmal, though it may add to fun, by becoming a puzzle to be solved. Dubbing is completely out of question. 

Luo Jin is one of the stars of the "Princess of Wei Young," a well-written series where he falls in life with the title character, played by his real wife, and their warmth is obvious on the screen. There is only one flaw - the blooms in the fields are all silk flowers, perhaps there was nothing blooming in the winter when the episodes were filmed.  So....

The whole poem will be published elsewhere, here's just a teaser, first two stanzas.... 

I Fell in Love with Luo Jin

On the screen,
his eyes are always smiling,
even when just a corner of his mouth
lifts up in a rakish smirk.
I love his bravado when saving maidens
from ancient demons.
He flies through air while shooting arrows,
suspended from steel cables
in a deceptive, engineering feat.

I am in love with Luo Jin,
tenderly plucking guzheng strings,
wistfully gazing at the stars,
or into the eyes of his on-screen lover,
his real wife. Betrayal? Never!
He gives me of what I can only dream.
Like me, billions of others love Luo Jin,
seduced by the grand illusion of the film.
His sword ballet is an aerial dance –
killing without the stench of rotting corpses.
Pure flight, joy, even – Oh, Luo Jin!

That's just one difference between oral and written poetry. It is good if there is rhythm and rhyme. I think all students should memorize the Greek patterns of rhythm, called feet: iamb (ta DA),  trochee (DA ta), anapest (ta ta DA), dactyl (DA ta ta), and spondee (DA DA). Poems, even free verse, sound more "poetic" when patterns of these rhythm are repeated and woven into a flow.  

English language and Polish langue "love" different rhythmic patterns: most words are accented on penultimate syllable in Polish, so lines tend to be longer and more flowing. I do not even dream poems in Polish, and I really do not know why. Maybe the rhythm of English fits me better. Also, as a second language, it is somewhat "artificial" - it has some characteristics of an imperfect mask - I keep my Polish accent, so the mask is flawed, so is the quotidian poetry, good for this blog.  

A POSTCRIPT ABOUT THE RIVER

In February 2023, after months of incessant rain, pouring in thick layers, as if in a cloud-burst, the Bigh Tujunga wash became a river. I filmed some muddy water flows and the links are copied below. 

https://youtu.be/RJYexVu4r5s - turbulent waves of muddy stream  in the valley

https://youtu.be/FpcaAMHF9kM - waves of muddy stream break over rocks

https://youtu.be/Hxl7XWcQaG4 - there is no road, just a river and a mini waterfall (30 sec)

https://youtu.be/lJhlNWEdmKE - waves turn back, the patterns are fascinating

Look at that massive force of flowing water. Poor trees bent out of shape, with a weight of dead branches pushing them to fall down and float away. So do our daily trouble push and push in the relentless flow of time. . . Big Tujunga flows, if it has water in it, from Los Angeles National Forest mountains down to Los Angeles river. Sometimes, there are only rocks, sometimes, just a tiny stream, but this spring it changed into a raging, muddy river, that even took away part of our usual path and moved from where we used to play in pools created by rock dams, filling that area with sand instead. In 1998, it took away two holes and surrounding land from our golf course; they built a concrete wall to protect the rest after that... We can learn so much from rivers. So alive: always changing, always breathing, moving, dancing the endless dance of flow and change.

I could write a poem about lessons learned from such mighty, transient rivers - here today, gone tomorrow - but Zbigniew Herbert already did that, and I do not want to be a plagiarist. Yes, we can learn a lot from rivers... even those ones that do not last year round.

Maja Trochimczyk's New Book, "Bright Skies" (2022) with Poems to Heal, Amuse, and Inspire

 

ISBN 978-1-945938-49-8, color paperback

US Trade (6 x 9 in / 152 x 229 mm), 184 Pages

85 poems, 160 color photographs, 6 portraits

ISBN 978-1-945938-52-8, eBook in ePub format

ISBN 978-1-945938-54-2 color hardcover.

Maja Trochimczyk Reads "From Minium Chronicles", "Ocean of Jade" and "On Landscapes: A Guidebook" from the "Bright Skies" on YouTube, June 2022 (11 minutes): https://youtu.be/m0i17jPRPLs

Maja Trochimczyk Reads selected poems from "Bright Skies" on YouTube, June 2022 (30 minutes):

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30QrXhNFO7Q

Maja Trochimczyk dedicates this collection of poems, “Bright Skies,” to her children and grand-children, asking them to read and enjoy her verse “when they grow up.” The volume features 85 poems written in 2009-2022 and organized into five sections – Spring, Summer, Babie Lato, Autumn and Winter. The seasons of poetry include reflections on nature, beauty, love, life, and spirituality. The focus is on positive emotions, learning to be calm and content, full of compassion and wisdom. It is a life-long quest, and these poems are an invitation. 

The poems are illustrated with 160 photographs taken in the poet’s neighborhood – Big Tujunga Wash, Angeles National Forest, Descanso Gardens, and Oxnard Beach. The surprising “Coda” brings a set of recipes for old-fashioned Polish dishes mentioned in poems. Bringing together favorite memories of her Polish childhood – making and flying kites, plays with soap bubbles – and the delights of sunny Southern California gardens, parks, and beaches, the book includes lessons how to seek and find the daily dose of domestic bliss. This book is a legacy from a well-lived life, and a companion to "Into Light: Poems and Incantations" - another collection of positive, inspirational poetry illustrated with photos.

Preface

This collection of poems is inspired by the births of my two granddaughters, Aurelia, born on 12 September 2021 and Juniper, born on 16 September 2021.  I planned to write a book of poems for each girl, just as I did for my grandson, Adam, born on 16 September 2016.  The poetry book dedicated to him, entitled I Give You the World, contains one long poem describing things that I love and cherish in this life, illustrated with photos of my family, travels, and gardens. An abridged version without family pictures appeared on my blog; this version is further shortened here. The purpose of the book for Adam was to introduce the Polish-born boy to his American & Canadian family and their lives. He now lives in the U.S. and is able to share these delights in-person.

Since Adam got “the whole world” as his birthday present, what can I give to his five-years-younger sister, Aurelia, and his cousin, Juniper? I found 85 poems and over 160 photographs that I decided to share with them, in a book to be read when they grow up. This is not a children’s book. With gratitude, I described  delights that I found in my garden and home, during walks, adventures, and travels. I wrote about inspirational moments and discoveries, summarizing my life’s wisdom at 64.  This volume of “positive poetry” contains verse originally written in 2009-2022 and is a companion volume to Into Light: Poems and Incantations (2016). It is a necklace of love and blessings; each bead – a poem.

I hope that the readers attracted to the themes of seeking light and enjoying life in the garden will find here something to enjoy, something to think about, and something to do in their own lives. After all, we live in the Garden of Eden and can make this Earth a Paradise, if we only want to.  Enjoy!

                                                                                                                                  Maja Trochimczyk

Los Angeles, 1 June 2022

Table of Contents

 Table of Contents ≈ v

Preface ≈ viii

Prior Publication Credits  ≈ ix

 

Spring ~Wiosna ≈  3

1.       A Springtime Revelation ≈ 4 

2. Only in California  ≈ 5

3. The Day of a Plum Tree ≈ 7

4. Outside my Window ≈ 9

5. Spring Cleaning ≈ 11

6. An Artichoke of a Poem ≈ 13

7. On Being Green in Vincent’s Garden ≈ 15

8. Da Capo al Fine ≈ 17

9. A Ballad of a New Heart ≈ 19

10. An Invitation to the Dance ≈ 21

11. A Ballad of Angels ≈ 23

12. Practical Advice for a Frazzled Passer-by ≈ 25

13. Skylark’s Lesson ≈ 27

14. Oh, The Art of Looking ≈ 29

15. On Being a Bird ≈ 31

16. the doves of love ≈ 32

17. A Mystery Solved ≈ 33

18. Double Delight ≈ 35

19. Diamond Days in Crystal Gardens ≈ 36

20. This Afternoon ≈ 39

21. From Minium Chronicles ≈ 40

22. The Golden Hour ≈ 42

 

Summer ~Lato ≈ 43

1.       June in Gold and Blue ≈ 44

2. The Song of the Summer ≈ 46

3. A Tale of a Hare ≈ 48

4. A Drink of Water ≈ 50

5. Mason Bees ≈ 51

6. The Golden Time of Honey ≈ 53

7. Dreaming Bees ≈ 55

8. A Pear in a Tree ≈ 56

9. A Day Trip to Venice, California ≈ 57

10. Carving Sand ≈ 59

11. A Champagne Sunday ≈ 61

12. Aquamarine ≈ 63

13. The Ocean of Jade ≈ 65

14. The 23rd of July ≈ 67

15. Tatarak ≈ 69

16. Flying Kites ≈ 71

17. “Let me go!” ≈ 73

18. Soap Bubbles ≈ 74

19. High Noon ≈ 75

20. Matka Boska Zielna ≈ 76

21. In Morning Light ≈ 78

 

Babie Lato ≈ 81

1.       On Thursday Afternoon ≈ 82

2. Sapphire ≈ 84

3. Amber ≈ 85

4. A Revelation after Il Paradiso ≈ 86

5. Up, Up, Up ≈ 88

6. From Yesterday’s Dream ≈ 89

7. Sunfire Foxes ≈ 91

8. Sweet Nothings ≈ 92

9. The Year of Crystal Fire ≈ 94

10. Just to Make It Clear ≈ 96

11. A Chromosome Ballad ≈ 97

12. Twin Flame Promise ≈ 98

13. Diamonds ≈ 100

Autumn ~ Jesien ≈ 101

1.      On Cosmic Breath ≈ 102

2. Landscapes: A Guidebook ≈ 103

3. A Cosmic Rainbow ≈ 106

4. Today – For Us ≈ 110

5. I Give You the World ≈ 112

6. A Golden Poem for a Girl of Gold ≈ 122

7. Gold Wishes ≈ 124

8. Juniper ≈ 127

9. The Fierce Explorer ≈ 128

10. The Aril ≈ 130

11. Fall Yucca ≈ 132

12. This Evening ≈ 135

13. Diamond Rain ≈ 136

Winter ~ Zima ≈ 139

1.       California Winter ≈ 140

2. Standing in a Pool of Silver ≈ 141

3. The Antidote ≈ 142

4. A Music Box Christmas ≈ 144

5. Rules for Happy, Holy Days ≈ 146

6. A Ballad from the Field of Glory ≈ 147

7. A Jewel Box Sunrise ≈ 150

8. Winter Solstice ≈ 152

9. The Star of Christmas, the Way of Light ≈ 154

10. Gifts ≈ 156

11. New Year’s Day in the Wash ≈ 158

12. Your Rainbow ≈ 160

13. Imagine, a Poem of Light ≈ 161

14. A Declaration ≈ 162

15. Arbor Cosmica ≈ 164

16. Hymn of Light ≈ 166

Coda – Recipes for Poems ≈ 168

Spring – Mazurkas ≈ 168

Summer – Pickled Pears and Plums ≈ 169

Babie Lato – Szarlotka ≈ 170

Autumn – Bigos and Salads ≈ 171

Winter – Barszcz, Kompot and Kutia ≈ 172

 

About the Author ≈ 173

SPRING - WIOSNA

Outside my Window

  

A round spot of gold light

appears on the slope of my California hills

green in the spring, shadowed by rainclouds.

 

Suddenly, an epiphany of light, a hole in the sky

appears among thickening shadows, dusk

approaching soon, much too soon.

 

The bright circle stretches into

an arrow, points west, along the ridge

and the gully. The arrow of light, my arrow

tells me to go, do, act, lead and follow.

Be the light, bring the light. Enlighten.

 

Before I can even reach for pen and paper

to write down this command, this call to action,

it is gone.  All is shadow now. Murky darkness.

 

Yet the memory of cloud epiphany lingers,

etched onto my retina. This spot of light,

this arrow will always be with me —

every day, each morning I will turn the circle

of contemplation into the arrow of action,

the dawn star into a comet, inexorably 

reaching its end.

 

Is it not the story of my life?

This spot of light on a mountain meadow

after one winter storm, before another?

 

I catch it, hold it, and keep it safe

among my treasures. Things not to be

discarded.  Unforgettable thoughts.

 

Another pearl for my precious necklace

woven from brilliant moments — 

jewels of a well-lived life.

SUMMER - LATO

Matka Boska Zielna

 

~ for Mother of God of the Herbs (August 15)

 

Look at the greening hill slopes charred by last year’s wildfire—

that’s magic. Look at the mountain sunflower that grew

at the edge of the asphalt on Oro Vista road, it already blooms

out of nowhere—that’s magic, too. The postcard-size garden

by the old, wooden house, a shack, really—fills with flowers

every spring. Fruit appears on orange trees after bees collect pollen.

 

The scent of sweetness, the cheerful noise of bee wings—

is it not far more miraculous, a thousand, a million times

more delightful than the 100 floors of steel-metal-glass

of skyscrapers proudly pointing at the sky? Incomparable

with a patch of weeds, nature’s miracles of renewal.

 

How proud we are of our empty metallic constructions

that will rust in the jungle, abandoned, like stone pyramids

of the Mayas, shrouded by vibrant green of leaves and

branches. Thousands of years of human fame obliterated

by the steady, living, fertile abundance, the overflowing

force of life, of matter, our Mother.

 

Roots, shoots and tendrils spread out, germinate,

flow through the soil in search of water, nutrients,

life, more life, ever growing, ever richer, dancing,

singing the abundance of being—the song of creation

we are— we are —we are—we are all —

we are one—one—one—

First published in Quill and Parchment, May 2022

BABIE LATO

Diamonds

There is Universe within my heart

A myriad galaxies dance in my mind

I’m a microcosm of Divine design

 

In a seashell there is an ocean

In dark coal mine white diamonds grow

In your eyes I find ageless wisdom

The One Love that sustains us all

 

In your guilt I see my darkness

In your beauty—radiance and light

In your voice—the calling, the calling

 

Mountain air on a spring morning

Sparkling diamonds, radiant and pure—

For all forevers you enfold me in Love 

 

First published in Rose Always, rev. ed. 2020

AUTUMN - JESIEN

The Aril

 

“Aril” is the word for me.

Not “arid”—as in the desert of wasted years, hours.

Not “arduous” —as in working so hard every day

to make ends meet. These ends, they never meet, anyway.

 

Just aril. As in my garden at noon. As in ruby-bright

pomegranate shining in full sunlight. A jewel bowl

of arils I pick from exploded fruit to freeze for winter.

A handful of overripe arils that taste rejuvenating,

like fine wine. Tartly-sweet juice stains my fingers

burgundy-red—or should I say, aril-red?

 

Oh, the delight of untold riches!

 

You watch me blissfully chew the seeds

and say in disbelief: “You eat them whole? Really?

When I was a boy, my brother told me that

trees would grow out of my ears if I swallowed

pomegranate seed—huge trees would grow

and grow and grow and grow…”

 

We laugh at the vision of these arid, forgotten years.

It was an arduous journey that took us through

the wilderness to this vivid moment of sharing

this magic, life-giving nectar of arils,

ruby-red arils.

WINTER - ZIMA

Arbor Cosmica

                             ~ for my children

 

No fear, no hate, not even a mild dislike*—

we leave our heavy burdens, shards of memories

broken, all too broken, at the bottom of crystal stairs

beneath clouds of white camellias, petals swirling

through air like the snow of forgetfulness

 

Perfect symmetry of blossoms

points the way—up, up, always up

rainbow crystal stairs, revealed

one by one as we ascend—inwards,

outwards—dancing spirals of our DNA

 

We get to know this place—these depths,

these heights—for once, for all lifetimes

 

With each step, pure notes resonate

and expand into clear, spacious chords—

the music of the spheres rings out, wave by wave

expanding from our open hearts

 

Each chord—harmonious, different—

each melody in this vast symphony

sweetly twines around another, and another

until all are One Song, One Wisdom—

of stem and flower, of leaf and root

in this Cosmic Tree of humanity

 

Arbor Cosmica—

 

We have been here

all along without knowing

First published in the California Quarterly 46:4, 2019

Maja Trochimczyk with Grandson Adam, 2019

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Maja Trochimczyk, PhD, is a Polish American poet, music historian, photographer, and non-profit director. She is the author/editor of eight books on music and Polish culture in Polish and English,  as well as five poetry volumes and four anthologies, most recently We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology (co-edited with Marlene Hitt, 2020). A former Poet Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga, she is the founder of Moonrise Press, President of the California State Poetry Society, Managing Editor of the California Quarterly and Poetry Letter published by the CSPS, and President of the Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club, promoting Polish culture in California. Hundreds of her poems, articles and book chapters appeared in English, Polish, and in a variety of translations. She presented her research at over 90 international conferences and received many awards from Polish, Canadian and American institutions. Among other honors, she is the winner of the Creative Arts Prize from the Polish American Historical Association (2016) for her two books about Polish civilian experience during WW II and its aftermath, Slicing the Bread and The Rainy Bread. Since 2010, she has maintained a series of blogs on poetry, Polish history and culture, with a total readership of over 970,000 visitors: moonrisepress.com; californiastatepoetrysociety.com; poetrylaurels.blogspot.com; chopinwithcherries.blogspot.com, etc.