A trill,
a flash of red,
note unmistakeable –
loves echoes scatter through the air
hearts soar…
(Dark Side of the Moon’s weekly challenge is a Crapsey Cinquain. Visit the site to check out the details. Image is from my own collection.)
A trill,
a flash of red,
note unmistakeable –
loves echoes scatter through the air
hearts soar…
(Dark Side of the Moon’s weekly challenge is a Crapsey Cinquain. Visit the site to check out the details. Image is from my own collection.)
Winds picked up yesterday, gathering grey. Cold seeped in through the windowsills, and we set the furnace on high. Forecast for today is just above zero, even though we are in a tropical zone. Oh well, I decide, a nice spicy soup will warm our innards.
Seems my body mirrors the weather: health declining, forcing me to bedrest frequently. Have slept most the morning. In between, I check emails, the blog, and we speculate about what will happen next with Mother Nature. Soon, it will be time to venture home – a both welcome and sorrowful thought.
Confused winds blow cold,
winter reversing itself –
piquant soup simmers.
(It’s haibun night at the dVerse pub, hosted by Merril who challenges us to write about March Madness. I am also linking up to Ragtag Community’s prompt: speculate and Fandango’s: health.)
Unheralded,
an apparition
in white –
wings enveloping,
uplifting
soul cries,
voiceless,
powerless –
no pause
on perfection
she follows coastlines
while I travel roads,
fades from view
her shadow lingers,
wraps me in melancholy
one minute of rapture –
enough to make me mourn.
(Inspired by the sudden appearance of an egret while shooting this image. Submitted for Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt: roads, and Reena’s Exploration challenge: one minute.)
It’s odd, this gift of solitude. Perched beside the canal that runs behind our site, I affirm my connection to the earth, give thanks for this place and moment, and acknowledge that I am a part of all that surrounds me. The late afternoon sun casts a glow on the foliage across the way lighting up the mirror-still water with vibrant reflections.
Two winters ago, I was fighting to breathe as temperatures dropped below zero. Trapped inside my home by impassible walkways, I was desperately trying to stave off depression. It’s hard to be hopeful when isolation is imposed.
“There are no absolutes in life,” a professor once told me, and I think of that now – how just when we think our sentence has been handed down and sealed, an opening appears. I have been most fortunate. I savour each moment this current state of solitude offers.
Heron’s watchful stride
invites reflection, respect –
winter’s solitude.
(Kim is hosting in the dVerse pub tonight with solitude being the prompt for our haibun.)
Black and white flashes
disrupt the tangle of grey –
heart-soaring sweetness.
Water mimics sky,
withholds resplendence of blue,
dons a grey raincoat.
Dove sings of morning,
dew gathers on grass, scents air –
invites wakening.
(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge. Photo from personal collection.)

No path would blossom
if summers were about poetry –
a colder vine leaving me water.
Must let earth & animal
use this pure and wild air –
listen for dusk.
(I’m not running a weekly challenge, but I am inviting others to join me in playing Magnetic Poetry online. For details click here.)
Morning, he perches,
resplendent in heron gray
Like a beacon, he watches,
sets a rhythm for my day.
Is he lonely, I wonder,
eyes silent and still?
Later, he’ll wade his slow,
mindful hunt, while I tarry
waterside, camera aimed.
We’ve grown accustomed
to sharing this quiet space
I, the more curious, but
surely he ponders me too.
Is he lonely, I wonder –
Are you? his presence asks.
(Inspired by the resident Great Blue Heron and the promptings of Ragtag Community – resplendent, and Fandango – formidable.)