Imitate Nature,
the guru said,
observe and learn.
Geese, I notice,
are loud, messy,
and communal.
Move slowly
without shame,
protest likewise.
Not sure I aspire
to goose-like behavior,
but balance would be good.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)
Frayed and overwhelmed,
senses bombarded beyond
coping – seek comfort
in the quiet knowing, and
loving support of kinship.
(For RonovanWrites Haiku Challenge: Â coping & support)
Public displays seldom tell-all,
Vanity figures performance called for –
a ruse to make the hordes pander.
Clearly fault lies with us, audience
fuelling rhetoric, lapping up the hate.
Give politicians their due, they deliver
souped-up enemies to satisfy our tastes.
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge, where the prompt is the line: Public figures make us hate their enemies.)
Image from personal collection.
Must have been the heat –
lazy August sun reaching
through Willow sway –
or maybe the laughter
bubbling up from brook –
had me so ensorcelled
I swear I saw the veil slip,
beheld faery beings –
a second of enchantment
then gone…
Be as trees, reaching
canopy of harmony,
gratitude implied.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: Â gratitude / harmony. Â Photo from personal collection.)
Late August nights cool
burnt dry hues
will soon transform –
symphony of colour
There is sorrow
in Summer’s end;
Autumn’s icy breath
Winter’s warning.
Silent as the Great Blue,
Autumn hues creep
shifting the landscape
altering my mood.
Do feathers quiver
at the ensuing chill,
or is it merely human
this seasonal affect?
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day)
My memory of you –
distorted by childish exuberance –
distant and disinterested
Translated vacant eyes
through the lens of my needs
child that I was.
Failed to notice
the aura of defeat,
the battered heart
the robotic responses
masking unbelievable sorrow
missed it all
till death knocked
and I saw you anew –
adult lenses now fully secured.
wonder at the fortitude
that kept you upright,
the love that served us both.
No fault here –
on either side –
just a bittersweet understanding.
(Life, in retrospect, offers new revelations. Â Poem inspired by Reena’s Exploration challenge – image as prompt.)
Knee-deep wading
in electric yellow waters
of mud-laden stream
the coveted prize –
a mutated version –
Christ’s fish hovers
arms reach away –
have touched it –
recoiled out of fear.
Status is stagnation –
movement stymied
current lacking
Only the constant
thrum of winged
pests belligerence
punctures stillness,
irritates – its hard
shelled turquoise
body reminiscent
of Halcyon days,
Caribbean sunsets.
What evil virus has
cemented me here,
strangled nomadic
dreams, mired me
in polluted waters
imbued with cruel
uncertainty, faith-
less, immobilized
by incomprehensible?
(Watery Stagnation first appeared in August, 2016, and is edited here.
Said his name was Orion,
“light of Heaven” –
starry-eyed, I succumbed
godlike presence, I believed,
could walk on water –
but his light fast flickered
squelched by insatiable ego,
only thing he walked on
was me…
Little Bear.
(Tuesdays, I share a poem from Twitter @Vjknutson. )
One Woman's Quest 