We may have had all summer to enjoy the sun, and now night and day are even. Yet as autumn begins to descend, I can’t help feeling it’s not a fair fight. I keep waiting for the last leaf to fall — for the other shoe to drop.
Flaming, leaves are red —
In a world that’s upside-down
Somewhere it is Spring
For DVerse Poetics “Flights of Fancy” and inspired by something I saw in my family’s garden yesterday.
The finch perches
On the back of a sunflower,
As she awaits her turn
At the filled feeder:
She finds her chance
And when she flies
The flower dances springily back,
In true sunflower fashion;
The finch uses the free
Surplus of birdseed
To fuel more of her
Flight and avian dreams.
I combined two prompts for this poem, Linda’s paint-chip poetry for the week and also Ronovan’s Décima challenge using “dream.” I hope this is good because I wrote 4 or 5 décimas in the past few days but didn’t feel confident sharing any of them.
Saxophone solo, smooth as dreams,
Piano keys accompany —
Both ebony and ivory —
Talent rare as saffron, it seems.
Courage in a lion heart gleams:
New life imbued into spirit,
Rocking the boat but fine with it,
The boat was sinking anyway.
A living spring will gush today:
Music shall play, songs not tacet.
This is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Flower Moon, which happens to be tonight. Also, May is the month when Catholics honor Mary in a special way, and one of the traditional activities is called a May Crowning. Here is a picture from one that I participated in last year.
Soon a May crowning:
In many-starred night-sky cloak
This haibun is written in response to Frank J. Tassone’s prompt about Easter lilies. Easter is celebrated for 8 days on the Catholic liturgical calendar, and the Easter season lasts for several more weeks. I am grateful for each of my friends, especially for those who have stayed in contact with me during this crisis, but I still am having such a hard time not being able to see anyone in person!
I would give white Easter lilies to my friends, to say, “Pleased to have made your acquaintance.” Then I may bestow, on a certain someone, lilies of yellow, to urge us to “live for the moment.”
though love is patient
fights against separation
from the Beloved
Even if there’s no romance, you are my soulmate:
You know not the consolation your prayers create
Inside this butterfly soul; your voice is springtime
Through the phone lines, your treasured words sunshine —
May we meet again, when we reach our common goal.
Note: The person who I wrote this poem about says that he prays for me every time he sees a butterfly, and I also love butterflies, hence the term, “butterfly soul.”
On this first day of NaPoWriMo, I am posting a haibun in response to Frank J. Tassone’s prompt about the virus.
Almost exactly two years before this quarantine started, I spent my spring break visiting a monastery. I was considering the life of a cloistered nun, as I was very attracted to their way of life and prayer.
I loved every minute of that time and even visited again that summer. However, in the end, it was not to be, and I have not pursued it any further.
Now is my new chance to be a cloistered nun.
Black-and-white clad nuns
Flock together in spirit
As bells are tolling