Poetic Sketch
by Marie Bortolotto

letting go isn't easy
the way of surrender
      isn't for the fainthearted --
nothing to hold onto
     but the rhythms of my breath

Persian Daf By Viona

Poetic Sketch
© Marie Bortolotto 2024



freeing myself
a labyrinth of delusions
many detours, many minotaurs
round and round I go, stuck --

where's the path that leads home?

Marie Bortolotto Art

Poetic Sketch
by Marie Bortolotto

walking the path
many detours

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Poetic Sketch
by Marie Bortolotto

Walking
Listening --

The bells! The bells!
I'm reminded of John Donne's poem:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were,
As well as if a manor of thine own,
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

Marie Bortolotto Artist

Poetic Sketch
© Marie Bortolotto 2024



sometimes, I sit
just listening --
children's laughter

Marie Bortolotto Art

 

 

Poetic Sketches
© Marie Bortolotto 2024



1/

an old Sikh circumambulates the park --
mantra chanting

2/

life --
what a miracle it is!
breathing in
breathing out



3/

when I close my eyes
the universe speaks



4/

a jangle of bicycle bells enchant me --
children's playful devotions

Gretchen Yanover - Cellist

Poetic Sketch

© Marie Bortolotto 2024



tumbleweed of thoughts
appearing and disappearing

I wonder which way
the wind is blowing?

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Haiku

© Marie Bortolotto 2024



old muslim
on the bus -
call to prayer

Note: This haiku was inspired by an old muslim listening to the adhan (call to prayer) on his phone while boarding the bus. The bus immediately fell silent; the muezzin's resonant voice calling all of us to prayer (praise/gratitude/devotion) regardless of our beliefs or spiritual affinities.

Adhan (Call to Prayer)

 Short Verse

© Marie Bortolotto 2024



walking without thoughts
only three words --
you belong here

Marie Bortolotto Art

Late Fragment

And did you get what
wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

- by Raymond Carver (A New Path to the Waterfall 1989)
  Inscription on his tombstone.

Short Verse

© Marie Bortolotto 2024



sitting without thoughts
only three words --
everything is beautiful

Note: After writing this poem, I remembered this old song by Ray Stevens!
Rock on Ray, rock on...

Ray Stevens - Everything is Beautiful (1970)

Elegy to the Old Man Hokuju

Poem by Yosa Buson (Japanese poet & painter of Edo period 1716 - 1784)

You left in the morning, at evening my heart is in a
thousand pieces.

Why is it so far away?

Thinking of you, I go up on the hill and wander.
Around the hill, why is it such a sadness?

Dandelions yellow and shepherds-purse blooming white --
not anyone to look at them.

I hear a pheasant, calling and calling fervently.
Once a friend was there across the river, living.

Ghostly smoke rises and fades away with a west wind
strong in fields of small bamboo grasses and reedy fields.

Nowhere to leave for.

Once a friend was there across the river, living, but today
not even a bird sings a song.

You left in the morning, at evening my heart is in a
thousand pieces.

Why is it so far away?

In my grass hut by the Amida image I light no candle,
offer no flowers, and only sit here alone.

This evening, how invaluable it is.

Priest Buson with a thousand bowings

Waking-up At Dawn

© Marie Bortolotto 2024



Twenty five years ago

I moved to the mountains

Inspired by wandering poets

I followed in their footsteps
Singing words from the heart

City traffic rattles my nerves

Wildfires cut down my breath

Lost in a maze of emptiness

I walk countless pathways

Carrying water, chopping wood

Years dissolve into dust
I’m an old woman now

Shrouded in shades of grey

How many really see me

Beyond the gaze of time

Waking-up at dawn

I compose poetry in the park

Content with the way of things

Listening to the voice of silence

Nothing and everything speaks

Note: Poetry as an oral art form likely predates written text.
The earliest poetry is believed to have been recited or sung.

Marie Bortolotto Artist

 

1/

What do you have to do?

Pack your bags,
Go to the station without them,
Catch the train,
And leave your self behind.

-Wei Wu Wei

 

2/

Why are you unhappy?
Because 99.9 percent of everything you think,
and everything you do, is for yourself  -
and there isn't one.

-Wei Wu Wei

Short Verse
© Marie Bortolotto 2024

story of my life -
one big walk here

Marie Bortolotto Art

 

Nowhere
© Marie Bortolotto 2024

nowhere to escape
nowhere to be seen
nowhere to be heard
nowhere to run
nowhere to be found
nowhere in sight
nowhere to hide
nowhere to turn
nowhere to stay
nowhere to go
nowhere

but here

Marie Bortolotto

Ambulātus*
© Marie Bortolotto 2024

I left everything behind
to walk ten thousand miles -
a circumambulation of the heart

with each step devoted
to the mother of all mercies

what I'm learning is this -

delusions fade into freedom
when your feet kiss the ground

*ambulātus (from Latin) to walk

Marie Bortolotto Artist

Many the reflections
But the surface is clean.
It has always been free of clouds,
This mirror.

- Runkai (13th c Japanese Buddhist nun)

Who am I, really?
© Marie Bortolotto 2024

If you ask,
"Who am I, really?"
you'll hear nothing of import - 

I'm but a homeless pilgrim
a seagoing wayfarer
cast adrift on a ship of fools
whose only devotion
lies in circumnavigating
the depths of the heart

Marie Bortolotto Artist

Heironymus Bosch Artist

Finding the Way
© Marie Bortolotto 2024

sometimes, I fall
out of rhythm with life
darkness gathers
in my heart
birds stop singing
           streams dry up
                     and roses cease to bloom

that's when I open the door
take a walk, empty-handed
nothing but the clothes on my back
I wander ancient pathways
in and out of time
           shedding all delusions
                    until I find the way again

© Marie Bortolotto Art

A Dreamer's Paradise

after years of walking
I arrived here

no one in sight -
a dreamer's paradise

sometimes I'm lonely
but trees speak

when I'm lucky
a butterfly flits in and out

my heart knows
there's no going back

the path of haste
leads nowhere

© Marie Bortolotto 2024

Abdel Karim Ensemble

Be humble.
Only fools take pride in their station here, trapped in
a cage of dust, moisture, heat and air.
No need to complain of calamities,
this illusion of a life lasts but a moment.

- Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir

Taking a Walk to the Mother Tree
A short poem and film by Ward Serrill. Utterly magic!

Love this man (Red Pine/Bill Porter) and his many translations
of Buddhist sutras and ancient Chinese poetry.

The Great Bell Chant - such an inspiring video
Read by Thich Nhat Hanh, chanted by brother Phap Niem.

Poetic Sketches

1/

not knowing what
the next moment brings

I surrender to wonder

 

© Marie Bortolotto 2024

 

2/

beyond the gaze
of yesterday and tomorrow

aliveness reveals itself

 

© Marie Bortolotto 2024

 
"All shall be well, and all shall be well,
and all manner of things shall be well."

- Julian of Norwich.

Love this old monk!

The Monk and the Moon -
from "Amongst White Clouds" by Edward A. Burger