As I’m walking past
Quietly amidst the green
The moss sings to me
Tag: poetry
Blooms
Within my garden
Springtime announced in glory
Soon the petals fall
Friday Early Morning: A Haiku
As the daylight fades
Thus day becomes memory
Glorious springtime
Today’s Haiku, May 8, 2019
Dawn’s gracefulness past
Light flowing through my window
Through firs and hemlocks
Haiku: April 3, 2019
In this daylight
Work flows from fingers
Will the rains clean the street?
Deserts Hate Me: A Tale Of Un-Tough Skin
Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.
Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.
Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.
Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.
Such randomness within in my mind.
Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.
From My Walk This Morning
Not far from my home
This plant bursting with spring’s life
Season’s transition
Tranquility’s Value
In this raging age
Few value tranquility
I still seek it’s grace
Is it pretentious to call myself a poet?
<
p style=”font-family:"”>I love poetry
<
p style=”font-family:"”>Am I pretentious enough
Claiming me “poet”
In today’s cold fog: a haiku
In today’s cold fog
Sunlight never reached the ground
Winter approaches