Home » cho 17.1 | Apr. 2021 Table of Contents » Giselle Maya and Patricia Prime, What Matters Now

Giselle Maya and Patricia Prime

What Matters Now

Children grow into adults. We talk once a week about what we’re doing. . .  

Waking today to mountains dusted with snow, to Tora, my tiger cat sleeping on the yoga mat, I listen to shakuhachi music. Little squirrel-tailed Shikibu, who recently arrived from nowhere, is still hiding.

In the evening I try for the first time to pick up the new kitten. He’s terrified, turns around in my hands, scratches me on the lip, and jumps down. I am surprised but know he’s not done this on purpose, but to escape being held up which he is not used to.
 
The next day, when I ignore the little cat, he speaks to me in soft meows, drinks water, and eats. I feel the lip starting to heal and continue to work on a blue-green collage—an abstraction of trees, plants, a lizard. Shikibu watches snowflakes, perhaps the first he’s ever seen.

snow-covered
sky valley mountains
almost content
within winter
equanimity

The children burst from the car feet flying feather-light over the tussock. Kicking off their shoes they dive into the black sand squealing and charging towards Lion Rock. They are determined to climb its steep rocky face though it is now roped off as it is too dangerous. I follow, running behind them, calling their names. Finally hearing me above the wind, they turn, whipped hair tangled and faces caught with light.
 

I can’t help but try to protect them from danger. I yell: “Come back, at once, or you’ll be sorry—no ice cream or treats!” They look at me as though they believe I’d punish them for being adventurous. “Wait for me!” I urge and they do, this time.
 

Then the children make a dash for the sea, surf crashing down onto the beach. Paddling on the sea’s edge, they splash each other and holler into the wind. We marvel at the black sand, the sea, the distant hills—for an instant everything is brushed with brilliant sunshine.

sharpened
by tiny shadows 
shells glitter
in the rock pools
centre of ripples

About the Authors

Giselle Maya has lived in Provence, France for 27 years. Her cicada chant was published by Red Moon Press. She enjoys collaborating with Patricia Prime and together they co-authored Shizuka, published by Alba Press in the UK.


Patricia Prime is co-editor of the NZ haiku journal Kokako. She is the articles editor for contemporary haibun online and also a reviewer for Atlas PoeticaTakahe, and other journals.

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