The five women gathered under the pearly radiance of the full harvest moon. They represented air, water, earth, fire, and spirit. Hands clasped together, they formed a circle, their upturned faces raised toward the orbs’ soft glow. This was how they would pay homage to the passing of another cycle—another ending, and another beginning. Change was the only constant in life.
I feel great satisfaction in the planting and growing of perennials. They become my offspring, a by-product of the energy I infuse into the plants to grow and become strong. Each season, I fuss over the fresh growth, thrilled that my plant babies survived another year.
day’s first blush halcyon weather eventide storms
Today, the humidity wrapped vaporous tendrils of fog around the trees in my neighborhood. As I labored in the garden digging holes, my sweat dripped into the soil.
dark clouds birth crepuscular light draws rainfall
By the time the rains came, my plants were tucked into the soil and my balance with nature was again restored.
This haibun is an example of a prose envelope haibun (prose, haiku, prose). An explantation of the form is found on page 84-89 in the print book of Word Craft: Prose & Poetry.
This week’s Tanka Tuesday challenge was to pick synonyms for the words dawn and twilight selected by Gwen Plano. I used “first blush” for dawn and “eventide” for twilight. In the second haiku, I used “birth” for dawn, and “crepuscular light” for twilight.
The February 25 2021, Carrot Ranch flash fiction prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the word frozen. It can be descriptive, character focused, action driven. Go out onto the ice and find a frozen story. Go where the prompt leads!
Respond by March 2, 2021.
“The Neighborhood,” Haibun (99 words)
My first walk in the new neighborhood turned up some surprises. Across the street, a fast-running stream bordered the edge of the forest along the walking path.
So, this is where the deer came from, I thought. We’d spotted deer tracks in the snow as they came right up to our front porch. A real Michigan welcoming committee!
Around the corner, I spotted a pond, frozen beneath the afternoon sun. I day-dreamed about the frogs and crickets serenading us in the stillness of a long summer night.
For my weekly syllables only poetry challenge this week, I’ve written this haibun using scented for the word, hint; and bright, for the the word, bold.
“Apocalypse Now” #Haibun
Is the myth of an Apocalypse a reality? Has mankind finally finished decimating our planet? The mother goddess is screaming out to anyone who will listen. Shhh… if you close your eyes and listen, you will hear her keening wail. Her voice carries on the wind.
Plagues, inland storms with the strength of hurricanes, fires that never stop burning, smoke so thick it chokes you… what will it take for us to wake up and realize climate change is real? When will we believe the truth? How much more proof do we need?
smoke scented sky haze bright birds hide in confusion waiting for the sun
I always love the beginning of the month’s poetry challenge because poets choose a form and write about the things that mean the most to them.
As the number of coronavirus infections and deaths continues to climb in Arizona, I leave at sunrise for my early morning walks to avoid contact with others. I’ve discovered it’s the best time of the day.
The Palo Verde Weeps
The coolness of the early dawn wraps around me like a shroud of mist, palpable but unseen. Perched high above, two mourning doves murmur a soulful greeting. The sun crowns the Palo Verde trees like a nimbus surrounding the mother goddess in celebration of another day.
light reveals the morn with the first heat of summer saffron blossoms fall
My mission is to visit this place undisturbed, for I seek no human contact, only the companionship of the desert spirits who live nearby. The shady path follows beneath a tree framed in brilliant light, its branches humming with bees dressed in pollen while the golden blossoms fall to the earth like rain.
the Palo Verde weeps
For this is the meaning of all life, the feel of the land beneath, and the tears from the trees above. Let this moment witness my sorrow and joy, grief and gratitude, for I am still alive. May the spirits of the land and sky bless us and those taken away too soon.
To get back into the swing of writing, I’ve combined my weekly #PhotoPrompt poetry challenge and the Carrot Ranch prompt into one piece.
The April 23, 2020, Carrot Ranch prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about distance dating. It can be any genre, era, or setting. Who is dating, and why the distance? How do the characters overcome, accept, or break up because of the distance? Go where the prompt leads! Respond by April 28, 2020.
I have no tears left to shed. Yesterday, Pa and I’d buried Jeremy at the edge of the cemetery where the tallest trees grew.
After a month in country, an enemy bullet had found its mark. Now, all that remained of our love was the box of letters he’d written to me from Iraq.
Darkness hovers. Thunder growls, a storm ready to erupt. Yet, a feeling of warmth comforts me. I know he is near. Deep within, the first faint flutter of life stirs—Jeremy’s baby, a life reborn.
the sun plays hide and seek between the storm clouds
For the word, perception, I used the word, “approach.” For the word, influence, I used the word, “change.”
Beneath a sapphire sky, our Jeep cruised along the road toward home. The desert shimmered in the heat and ribbons of light danced above the asphalt reflecting a myriad of rainbow tints. The air conditioner blasted away, struggling to erase the heat of the day.
“Look,” said my husband, pointing to the left side of the road. He slowed the vehicle and we gawped, mesmerized by a bit of beige colored fur scurrying across the road.
“A coyote,” I stammered. “I’ve never seen one in their natural setting.”
Upon reaching the other side of the road, the coyote, as if hearing the awe in my voice, paused and looked over his shoulder. Our eyes met, and a feeling of mutual understanding passed between us. My new friend pulled back his lips in a tight grin.
Approach a balance- between wisdom and pleasure. You must change your ways!
Coyote spoke with the foresight of a spirit animal. But what about Crow? Certainly, I could have two animal totems, I reasoned. Suddenly, it all began to make sense. Crow had brought me wisdom and now, Coyote had given me the strength to change.