Brightest, like frost, a moister dawn… Did I live in peace? Feel ancient life, forest sanctuary, stone moss? The that do like him soon rising
Path to peace is circuitous – having been modeled unrest, schooled in denial… Expectation envisions a grassy peninsula – gently rolling greens and tranquil blue
Day, no more than a sliver, casts a subtle glow on the path. A small bird tap-tapping on windowpane has awakened me, invited me out.
Timid starts beget longevity, peace – beware infatuation, whose coals, burning too brightly, blind and scald its victims. (Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: peace/love.
Sixties’ doctrine was all about love – long-haired hippies espousing anti-establishment, warriors sitting for peace, getting their groove on. Too young to grasp the concepts
Fan whirs, like a cyclone building pressure head craves silence thump – automated shutoff ears ring in aftermath mind craves silence shrill peep shatters calm