The place where I was born is not my native land.

Golnaz Fathi

When America murdered Hiroshima shadows were burned onto sidewalks.

When America murdered Hiroshima
shadows were burned onto sidewalks
where human beings had been standing.
Imagine that, a shadow burned onto concrete.
So hot even the ghosts didn't survive.
Nuclear heat.
It was the same when America murdered Nagasaki.
But not Tokyo.
Tokyo, it was decided, was largely made of wood.
wooden offices, wooden homes,
wooden schools and hospitals.
So fire bombs were dropped and Tokyo burned.
Not nuclear heat, no shadows burned onto concrete.
A slower agony.
Flames on the children. Flames on the elderly.
Who has the right to order that a city should die?
Who can make that decision? A President?
No one. For no reason.
Not even God.

James Lee Jobe

“Without the energy that lifts mountains, how am I to live?”

Mīrābāī

Sacramento Valley (a haibun)

The place where I was born is not my native land, neither are the places where I was raised. The Sacramento Valley is my native land. My wife and I chose it for ourselves, and raised three children here, and scattered the ashes of one of them. Here. We worked here, and we planted some fruit trees and a garden. Here. And when the end comes, as it must, our ashes will spread here. The place where I was born is not my native land. The place where I invested my life is my native land. 

The stars and the trees

here are my old and dear friends -

Life calls me its brother.

James Lee Jobe

AHMAD JAMAL - Autumn Leaves

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jlj