Category: Poetry

Haibun 6

4:45 in the morning and once again awake – I look up from my journal to find a deer  – standing outside patio window – not six feet from where I’m sitting – she staring at me – now I staring at her – I contemplate the beauty of the moment – I can only surmise she contemplates survival – soon enough, she moves on with her day, and I with mine

paths intersecting

cold February morning

predawn darkness

Haibun 5

Opening my eyes from predawn meditation, I glanced upwards to see the third quarter moon at its zenith shining brightly. Clouds rendered paler by the reflected light of our distant neighbor raced across the sky making haste in front of the cold winter wind while the dark trees swayed back and forth standing in sharp contrast to the heavens. It was a moment of natural, colorless beauty. I turned to grab my phone to preserve the moment, but it disappeared just as suddenly as it had come. My meditation bench had taught me yet another lesson – be content with the moment.

the moon and the sky

beauty lies in the moment

not in the image

Haibun 4

Sitting in the chair of my ‘work from home’ desk, I dismissed the sounds of rustling leaves just outside the window as being just another breezy gray December day. When I finally ignored the twenty-first century long enough to look… birds. At least five fat orange-breasted birds with gray feathers – I mistook them for robins but know not what they were – beautifully grabbing leaves with their beak and throwing them to the side with great violence over and over and over again. Their plumage matching the muted tones of autumn, one could almost mistake the leaves popping up and casting themselves aside rather than a small flock inhabiting my porch looking for – and occasionally finding – a meal. I sat there and watched them work for several minutes and then, when I moved to get up, they flew away, vanishing into the woods, maybe never to be seen on my porch again.

today, birds of spring

foraging through autumn leaves

winter approaches