Sing Along

Dove’s mournful cry
spotlights Nature’s calling –
Let us find a harmonic note
sing along for conservation,
for preservation, for a strong
tomorrow – find our voices
and join the chorus.

(A New Year’s resolution for the world. Image mine)

Not So Green

Corporations claim to be green
bent as they are on profitability

Contrived, the marketing schemes
colour added to mask the perils

No amount of dye can alter
the truth for our world faces

the midnight hour, time
for preservation waning.

(For Reena’s Xploration Challenge: featured image. Also for Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: midnight.)

(Water: Haiku and Free Verse)

Even the river bleeds
fiery frigid essence
Earth’s watery voice.

**

It is the river
that calls, waters
flowing through my veins

and I, the banks
steadfast and holding

the razor sharp edges
like liquid steel
erode my earthen postures

challenging…
blessedly challenging…
the hardened places.

(Water: Haiku and Free Verse first appeared here in June of 2018. It is has been edited for this version. Image my own.)

Vancouver Island

Is it the robin whose morning song so sharp and crisp awakens me in this enchanted place, or the warble of Juncos whose hooded faces delight as they forage between the dried, curled aftermath of a cold Winter, now pushed aside by new life sprouting? The absence of raindrops on tin roof offers promise that the sun might appear today, the buds on the oak trees as anxious as I for the warmth.

I raise the window shades to reveal the lush green of Douglas firs, the walls that divide us from our neighbours: nomads like us in the quest to commune with a simpler way of life. We are metal boxes tucked within green pockets, quiet souls hushed by the grandeur of the forest we currently call home, reticent to disturb the wildlife that also grazes here – squirrel, fox, and rumours of cougar. Occasionally bear. We are skirted on one side by marsh, a lush welcoming for geese and goldeneyes; and on the other by ocean, where seagulls and terns claim driftwood as perches. It is the raven who is master here. Large wings casting shadows, the thrumming call – sometimes belligerent, sometimes a purr – a reminder that this land is theirs, that the totem poles dotting the island are a testament to royalty.

Offshore, seals roam in masses encouraged by the schools of trout and halibut, and soon the salmon run. Orcas gather in semi-circular formation, readying the hunt. Spring is a time of proliferation – abundance after the Winter chill.

Arise, old woman
Nature evokes new rhythm –
Spirit wants to dance.

(Vancouver Island first appeared here April, 2018. It is an early attempt at a haibun. I am linking up to my weekly challenge: trees. Image my own.)