Pluvia

leafand raindrop.jpg

 

There’s something
about the first rain of fall
when it comes, finally, to fill
in the cracked earth of
summer’s heat

A mollifying, reminding one
that change will come,
regardless, and without
our doing, or undoing

As we circle and spin,
we transform
by our living, re-shape by
what passes over and
around and through us

There is no control, none
really needed, just patience
and some stillness
to sanction the interval
until drops upon the roof
announce their arrival

Arise, a haibun

 

bunny

 

She hid under lush leaves of summer hoping to be lost to the gatherer’s touch. Deep inside she watched as gentle fingers lifted pieces to be housed in safety over winter’s time. And snow came. Cold endured by only the strongest. Rain to quench when dry days lingered too long. Finally, she let herself be noticed as sun grew long and earth made way for new growth. Her journey complete, a jubilant wink greeted her summer friend.

rain feeds earth
spirit grows within
life ascends

 

 

 

napo2017button2

 

 

Author’s Note:

Today is a preview, an Early-Bird Prompt for NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month.

This is a haibun.

What a wonderful start!

Rose Yellow

There is a bush of rose yellow where bloom tightly binds
through first frost protected by bough of
precious crabapple and wall of brick and mortar.

The few last petals cling to stem,
thorns useless for no passerby would pluck
such ragged bud to prove one’s love.

I clear away all that presents itself boldly just for show,
to see your grip as though it’s spring awakening.

Here I am comforted by your gentleness,
emboldened by your sense of strength in your own being,
and conceive that which only you know resides within.

 

Equilibrium

It drew me out to the street, bare feet, pajama clad.
It didn’t matter, no one was there,
not even my neighbor’s yipping mongrel,
or her teenage son raging behind his wheel.

It was scent of winter rain,
you know the kind when air is full to its brim.
A slight chill hinted snow not quite ready to fall.

I paused under a yellow slivered glow
hooded in thin streaked clouds,
inhaled with such deep reverence
I lifted from my grounding.

In between seasons, as one couples to the next,
I am tilted off balance able to abrade infinity.

Gladdening

A gentle kind of madnessIMG_2264
takes me by the hand
as fog nestles within the gyre,
a game of hide-and seek ensues.

Overtaken under steel gray billow,
rain anoints my face, a lavish liturgy
unpinned from above.

Sweet lunacy fills my being
as autumn requests a partner,
twist and spin, a samba
under a tangerine ball.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

I love the fall. 🙂

Terminus

 

An overnight dusting
on frontier peaks notified
summer to ready itself for
abdication to a new hemisphere.
And still, a fan whirrs its caution,
fall is not yet willing to settle in.

Cicada tymbal and cricket choir
rise behind a prop plane spurring
toward its terminus.

Finally, softness resolves the day
under dowager locust’s lacy arms
gently brushing away irrelevancy.

I absolve myself at this day’s end
without contrition, tomorrow’s worry
dormant as halftone lines and curves
meld into the shadow sky of bedtime.