How I Love My Sapphire, Azure, Periwinkle California Skies

Through most of January 2020, the California skies have been painted ugly shades of off-white and grey by planes spraying plumes of metal aerosols - to improve cell phone reception I'm told by some people, to control the population or make us all sick, as claim others, or to make it harder for "good" UFO to move around in our airspace, since their engines are electromagnetic and negatively impacted by all this metallic dust. Alas, the dust turns sunsets into magnificent color displays, just as smoke does after fires.

But some days are clear, with pristine azure above, or sapphire, or cornflower blue... There are so many hues of clarity in the winter sky! Even some snow on the mountains (in December 2019).

like lotus in the mud

mountaintops bloom

with pure snow white

 

The Grapevine hills 

dusted with fresh snow

for Christmas

 

icing on the cake of

brown earth under grass blanket

snowy hills  of Grapevine

The white cover was limited to a certain height, below the hills were quite brown.

Here are other lovely landscapes without the crisscrossing patterns in the sky. Taken on those rare days of clear skies, or in the morning before the next shift of chemtrail pilots went to work to ruin our views. I usually look out first thing in the morning and go out in my bathrobe to document the California beauty before doing anything else. So lovely. Bouganvillea in bloom, and my Camelback mountain (or is it Mt. Lukens, I never remember) with two California palms of my neighbors.

Rainbows

Let’s conjure up a lovelier, brighter rainbow
made of jewels, translucent and opaque –

They are you, head to toe, a rainbow “you”
of strength and insight, presence and delight

You are a rainbow of endless Light
You are a fountain of boundless Love

You are a red ruby of life
You are a pure amber of creation
You are a bright gold of strength
You are a green emerald of affection
You are a blue sapphire of truth
You are a clear amethyst of perception

You are a white diamond of light
You are a bright diamond of light

The jewel rainbow of your body 
The jewel rainbow of your mind

Grounded in the earth, 
reaching for the sky 
dancing among stars

you are Love – you are Light

with me

(c) 2020 from Rose Always - A Love Story (rev. 2020)

Sapphire

 My tiger orchid blooms again

for the third time already

It looks at me shyly

with topaz eyes

thinking, I’d remember

that night, that music

of togetherness –

Expand, expand, forever

expand – our hearts fill

with Cosmic Light of

a thousand Suns –

liquid and flowing

to heal and purify

We thank, we praise

the One Love

that blossoms

in emerald gardens

in sapphire flames

and bright tiger eyes 

(c) 2020 from Rose Always - A Love Story (rev. 2020)

 

Some of the trees turn gold in December, the Big Tujunga Wash is so lovely at this time.

 

silver and bronze bushes, 

gold poplars and ash trees -

the riches of my valley 

 

 cherries start to bloom 

spring and fall at once -

all seasons in the now

 

 Twin Palms and the hills - 

 perfection welcomes me

in the morning

Amber

Red gold of falling leaves

and amber, liquid amber

engulf me with the intensity

of our love for all seasons –

Even the invisible California winter

without snow, with bright sunshine

and birdsong each morning – in time

for Darjeeling tea, Columbian coffee

and naleśniki, flat Polish pancakes

with a touch of maple syrup from Vermont.

The whole world celebrates with us

for we know true meaning of attachment –

not the pink blush of infatuation –

not the wine-red rose of passion –

but this, only this – pure clarity

of azure skies – clear radiance of red gold

and amber – liquid amber 

(C) 2020 from Rose Always - A Love Story (rev. 2020)

amber and sapphire -

California colors 

for the end of time

San Francisco Marina on December 26, 2019 was so delightful.

 

fold the sails

after worldwide travel 

rest in sunlit bay

And so  sunny and clear was the Mahnattan Beach Pier earlier
in November one afternoon. The sky was a bit more purplish.

a spaceship hides

in a thick white cloud -

 looking at you, kid

 

 a flotilla of clouds

watches over the valley

in sapphire peace

what's left of the last

cloud will soon disappear -

sapphire summer 

 

the doves of love

line up in my sky

for a new song

twin voices, twin songs

twin loves in the sky -

dove heaven

 

This Afternoon

   You are the music while the music lasts.

               ~ T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding

The woodpecker measures time by the thickness

of tree trunks. Birds make nests, hidden from

hawks, safe from scrub jays. We wake in sunlight,

with twirling patterns still under our closed eyelids.

We listen to high-pitched calls of hummingbirds,

the random flutter of wings. We breathe in spring air

with smoothly flowing melodies of birdsong,

the sweetest of nectars. Waves crash on distant shores

of the Pacific. Stars appear dimly above the horizon,

that glows with the bronzed orange of departing Sun.

We live on the planet of children’s laughter.

We watch refractions of light in my sapphire ring,

on diamond dew drops that cling to blades of grass,

half-opened roses. We live on Earth of abundance

and beauty. We live on Earth of plenitude and calm.

There are no sorrows here, no worries.

No before, nor after. No plans. We take deep

breaths, count to eight, inhaling smiles to the tips

of our fingers, into our toes. I laugh. You laugh.

Crystalline peals echo through the Universe –

from galaxy to galaxy, star to star.

We grow and grow – infinite, gentler, wiser –

we understand all, embrace all, know all.

Perfection. Presence. Light.

(C) 2020 from Rose Always - A Love Story (rev. 2020)

Imagine – A Poem of Light

      … a cloud that scatters pearls

                                 ~ Rumi

Are you an apple? Or maybe

a ripe seed inside an apple of light?

You are snug and safe in the core of a torus

of light rays. You are wrapped in white

silk of light, rays come from your crown into your

toes, surrounding you with a bright cocoon,

of magnetic lines, six winged angels stand

on all sides, watching over you.

Are you, perhaps a fountain?

Your heart – the spring of goodness.

Liquid light pulses and flows from you.

Your heart-beat marks the smooth rhythm

of the sky of the sky of the sky of the sky.

The light! This miracle you forget about

every day as your blood carries your

heart light into every cell of your body.

Not a fountain? A star, perchance?

Or, maybe, two stars. A larger one brightly shines

 On your chest, its rays straight and dazzling,

multicolored sparkles dance in the brightness

of your aura. See, the second star blossoms

on your forehead, as radiant as the heart star

Here you are: an arc between stars,

a lucid rainbow of ancient gold  

still shining, shining, shining –

(C) 2020 from Rose Always - A Love Story (rev. 2020)

         

            Gifts

 …the necklace of songs, that you take as a gift

                                                   ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I gather sunlight

in my palms

to save for later

when it’s dark outside

and hope seems lost.

My hands are full

of brightness. 

I gingerly carry

the tangle of sunrays

in a procession of gifts,

down the aisle.

I gather sunlight

to keep close

to my heart,

and warm us

through cold

winter nights

with a rich glow

of sunfire.

(C) 2020 from Rose Always - A Love Story (rev. 2020)

hills slide from orange

into darkness below

periwinkle sky

Wishes for Christmas and New Year 2020

Here are some Christmas poems from years past, with best wishes for Christmas and for the whole New Year 2020. Let us all be filled with love, gratitude, forgiveness, and generosity in a spirit of  Love.  Forget the darkness, focus on what's sparkling bright, love and laughter!

Good News

Did you know that Christmas is

Love, Love, Love, only Love to

be given, shared and cherished?

When baking together, hands

covered in flour, your fingertips

sweetened with chopped figs,

or roughened from wrapping

hundreds of tamales for family

dinner, while the honeyed voice

of Nat King Cole asks you to have

yourselves a merry, little Christmas.

Love means sharing a laugh

at the antics of the dog that runs

in circles on the lawn, so happy

to be free - without leash, without

orders to sit, roll, obey the master.

Love is a quiet moment of writing

the sweetest of wishes to be mailed

far, far away – this year even further. 

Love is a letter filled affection, kind 

feelings, gentle words that glisten 

with happiness & warmth.

(c) Maja Trochimczyk 2018

A Music Box Christmas

I wind the spring on the music box

Silvery specks swirl in the snow globe

The twinkling of “We wish you a Merry Christmas” fills the air

Santa on the rooftop falls into the chimney.

Are you ready for the holidays?  With Scottish whisky cake

Polish makowiec, American apple pie? Will you cook

Tamales on Christmas Eve, your family gathered

Around steaming pots, laughter mixed with hearty flavors?

Will you roast turkey with fixings on Christmas Day?

Will you nibble slices of chocolate oranges, after unwrapping gifts,

Will you taste walnuts and sesame snaps from your stockings?

I wind the spring on the music box

Silvery specks swirl in the snow globe

Memories of home swirl before me

I make cranberry sauce with pears and apples

The way my Mom taught me. Do I still know

How to chop figs and dates into finely ground poppy seeds

Boiled in milk, re-fried with honey? The favorite flavors of childhood,

Float away with Ogiński’s polonaise, Farewell to the Homeland.

Under blazing sun of California, I still taste the exotic desserts

Of Poland’s eastern borderlands, where cultures mixed

And worlds mingled – Poles, Lithuanians, Tartars, Jews –

Cornflower blue skies, shimmering gold of rye fields.

I wind the spring on the music box

Silvery specks swirl in the snow globe

I make a promise to myself I will not break

 

This Christmas, I’ll read a novel, wrapped in a plush red blanket

And a Santa hat. I will walk alone in the park, come back

To the empty house and watch The Lord of the Rings,

The epic battles of the elements, good versus evil,

Good versus evil  - twirling and waltzing - the silvery specks

Dance in the snow globe. I sing along “We wish you

A Merry Christmas”  thinking of the Christmas play

My daughter an Angel waving a green pine bough

Singing, in a sweet chorus of children’s voices:

“We swish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!”

© 2015 by Maja Trochimczyk

Morning, Noon, and Evening in California

There are moments, or times of the day that I am really fond of, first – morning light around 8 am in California, bright and cheerful, ready to tackle all that the new day will bring. The sun is somewhat low on the horizon, not directly above head as at noon in the summer, the shadows are longish, the contours of the bare hills beautifully outlined, each ridge and gully… and it is time to think of where we are… I wrote “In Morning Light” when I was finishing the edits for the “Grateful Conversations” Anthology of my writing group, and needed a new nature-related spiritual poem. The inspiration came from two experiences – watering the garden with a hose and playing with water droplets in the air, making patterns – circles, eights – and noticing a strange anomaly in the calendar for 2018. Indeed, all these holidays coincided that year, and thus gave rise to my poem.

In Morning Light

We live on a planet where it rains diamonds —
hard rain, sparkling crystal droplets — in the clouds,
in the air, on the ground under our feet.

Here, the Valentine’s Day falls on Ash Wednesday.
Red strawberries, wine-hot passion and Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust — lessons of impermanence of the body,
constantly reconfigured in a vortex of quarks and atoms
until the pattern dissolves like snow at the end of winter.
Delicate snowdrops peek from under the melting cover
of phantasmagorical shapes and figures.

Here, the Annunciation Day of Mary’s greatest joy
falls on Palm Sunday — from rainbow wings of Fra Angelico’s
Gabriel bowing before the shy, blushing maiden in royal blue
we look ahead to the green of palm fronds lining the streets
of Jerusalem. We welcome the destiny of the King.
We see red blood on the stones of Golgotha,
the Place of the Skull. Not even this is real.
No wonder, then, that Easter, the greatest Mystery —
of Death into Life, Spirit over Matter, the Divine
in an emptied human shell — Eli, Eli, Lema Sabachthani —
Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei — it is done  —
yes, that Easter — is on April’s  Fools Day this year.

We fool ourselves when we see death as enemy.
We spin our lives into thin filaments of a spider-web.
Illusion woven into illusion. Deception after deception.
They rise and fall with the rhythm of seductive charm.
The smiling demon is the most persistent. Incorrigible,
it pulls us down, down, down into the mud,
from whence we did not come. Nothingness
ties us up with bonds of non-belonging.

My revelation is this — we live on the planet
where it rains diamonds. We walk on untold treasures
that we do not notice — we forget and forget and forget
where we came from, where we are, where we are going.
We spin our future out of spider silk and shadows.
Our lives fill with the sand of dreams, changing
like shards of glass, broken bits of colored plastic
in a kaleidoscope — transfigured into the most
astounding waltz of the rosettes, reflected
in hexagonal mirrors of transcendence —

My revelation is this — we are the children
of Sunlight — blessed by Radiance — wearing
Love’s golden halos — we shine and blossom —
in Light’s cosmic garden of stars — lilies — violets —
peonies — daffodils —and roses — always roses —
in this brilliant garden — on a diamond planet —
of what is — in the Heart of the Great, Great Silence —

— there’s no here — nor  there —
— no before  — nor  after —
— no inside  — nor  outside —

——— All is Always Now———
——— All is Always One———
——— Where We Are ———


NOTE: References to the Gospels, Giordano Bruno, and St. Germain.

(c) 2018 by Maja Trochimczyk, first published in "Grateful Conversations" anthology edited by Maja Trochimczyk and Kathi Stafford (Moonrise Press, 2018).

I wrote “This Evening” next, quite recently, in fact. I went out in the evening for a walk in the Big Tujunga Wash… it is nearly-empty river-bed full of rocks, and flats of chaparral on both sides. The valley is quite wide there, framed by hills on three sides, but open enough to show a vast expanse of the sky.  It changes colors so dramatically at sunset in California. The hues are so vivid, so fluid. The hills turn purplish, the air almost orange, and then the soft whiteness above the horizon turns pink or scarlet, and the sky above moves from sapphire to periwinkle, to lapis and indigo… Being born and raised in Poland, much further north, where the sky is mostly greyish, even when at its bluest in the middle of the summer, I am constantly enchanted by the vividness and intensity of California colors. That’s one reason the English nobles, lords and ladies of the 19th century had to go on their Grand Tour of Italy – to experience the sapphires, emeralds, and rubies of a foreign sky, before settling on their rain-trodden country estates.

But, after writing “Evening” I thought I needed a “Noon” to finish the trilogy. And here, I returned to my garden for inspiration, a refreshing place, sometimes tranquil, at other times full of buzzing hummingirds, melodious flutes of the mockingbirds, and the chatter and flutter of wings of house finches and house sparrows, interrupted by the sorrowful cries of the mourning doves.  At noon, birds get all silent, ornithologists and composers (Messiaen) observed long ago. Here’s a poem about that noon silence.

High Noon

All silent, we wait with bated breath
for the next word from the Great Sun -
a life changing utterance of grace and might

Everyone drinks in the brilliance
in this land of butterflies and birdsong, where
birds doze off, hidden among tree branches.
Radiant light caresses their backs.

We fall asleep drunk on luminosity and lightness.
Each one of us tightly wrapped in soft down
of cherubs, overshadowed by smooth angels wings.

It is so quiet now, at the high noon of summer.
Satiated, tranquil, serene - all dream in the bright arms
of sunlight. Their DNA codes are cleared and sorted.

Their cells fill with liquid light. There is no absence,
need, want or sorrow. All is bliss - all peace - all is
perfect now -just now - right now

Now, then, it is time to look at the evening sky… The three poems together also capture the three phases of life: child, adult, senior, or, for women, girl, mother, crone… Growth, fruition, reflection. By calendar years, I should consider myself entering the “crone” period of wisdom and wrinkles. Yet, only yesterday I was asked to add M.P. to my name, for “Mary Poppins” – apparently I fly around flittering from event to event -  poetry, music, film, gala, reading, or party -  so much, that I remind people of her composure while flying around on her umbrella.  Of course, I like being “practically perfect in every way” – as we all should, as we are.

This Evening

It will be that way but for a moment - the light is dying
now as sunset dissolves into nightfall. The sky is the color
of soap bubbles - orange to pink to celadon and pearl gray,
with cloud stripes, below an expanse of periwinkle, a cupola
ready to burst open.

The hues are more seductive, for there is smoke in the air,
the scent of dying trees, grass, bushes perishing in flames
somewhere to bring us their last offering.  We watch
the sky glowing like soap bubbles – vivid, shifting, translucent.

Are we the most alive at the edge of dying? The most
attuned to living after we are told we have a year,
or maybe a month to put things in order? We admire
the bright maples and ginkgo trees covered in splendor
of scarlet and gold just before leaves fall. This is the sign
of passing, a farewell to their happy life.

Aren’t the iridescent hues of the sky telling us
that we still have time, so little time, yet time enough
to fully immerse ourselves in this moment, to reach
the zero point of here and now and be aware of its beauty?

We are content under the translucent sky of orange, gold,
silver and periwinkle, half-way between blue and violet,
just as we are half-way between life and death,
body and soul, heart and mind - suspended on an invisible
silver thread from the galaxy's web. One neuron
in the enormous mind of all stars, all beings, all trees,
all molecules of air and light. So much light!!!

(c) September 30, 2019 by Maja Trochimczyk

Southern California and Pacific Ocean from the plane window

For those interested in updates about my poetry activities, here are some links:

1. California State Poetry Society – californiastatepoetrysociety.com, is the blog for the Society that I now lead, with news about its journal, the California Quarterly, monthly contests, and other items that happen in the organization.

2. My poems appeared in Lummox vol. 8 (“Skylark’s Lesson”), Quill and Parchment (May 2019 – “My Mother’s Key”) and A Decade of Sundays (“The Song of a Key”) edited by Alex Frankel to celebrate his Second Sunday Poetry Readings.

3. You can also read some of my poems in Polish on pisarze.pl site, in two posts edited by Anna Maria Mickiewicz, who gathered together a representative sample of émigré poets based in America and the U.K.

• "W sercu..." on website about Polish writers, Pisarze.pl, in the second part of a post by Anna Maria Mickiewicz, Polish American poets, in Polish, October 2019. https://pisarze.pl/2019/10/15/poeci-amerykanscy-polskiego-pochodzenia-cz-ii-prezentuja-anna-maria-mickiewicz-i-danuta-blaszak/

• "Spacer w kanionie" "Ciocia Tonia" "Jak przejsc przez Wielka Biel" on website about Polish writers, Pisarze.pl, in the first part of a post by Anna Maria Mickiewicz, anthology of Polish American poets, in Polish, September 2019.  https://pisarze.pl/2019/10/01/anna-maria-mickiewicz-i-danuta-blaszak-prezentuja-amerykanskich-poetow-polskiego-pochodzenia/