While life seems to be slipping away from closed fists, more hopeful things are happening elsewhere. Winter writes ice haikus on mountains and Summer willingly gives them away to the lakes. Lakes send cloud haikus back to the sky and Monsoons again give them away to the lakes. Seasoned so, we learn …life never ceases in reality. So do haikus. Metamorphosis!
My haiku says she would rather have an apostrophe.
Dream marches are made of star dust. Winters bring down the curtains on our dreams a bit too soon. Dawn waits in the aisles of coffee nights to invade upon the grand finales of our rainbow dreams, greying the most colorful bit. Definitely not how we want our night long effort to fade out!
How about floating our dreams a bit early, so the stars may carry them on their wings? Beat the blues, dream early, catch the rainbow on time.
pic from pixabay for the weekly Ronovan haiku prompt – dream, march.
I had been chasing a dream…of seeing my second poetry book. After a long wait it has come true. Thank you all for your kind wishes. Kindly excuse me if all my posts run around and stop at my poetry book. I am not sure how well my book does commercially but having it done gives me immense joy.
winter’s dawn marches
stars of cerulean sky hide
until it’s dream time
Have a clear cerulean week ahead and happy dreaming 🙂
Infant 2020 smiles at us awing us with it’s toothless grins. Parenting a new born is no less a challenge. It’s going to throw tantrums, cry and mess up our sweet plans a bit. Growing old with it will be a roller coaster ride. There will be a childhood of dreams and expectations, and a coming of age marked with acceptance. Then settles an adult grace.
The ritual of old making place for new keeps rolling. In the process we learn, adapt and embrace the stark seasons. We smile through rough weather. Just like the ashes. The leaf scars of these trees resemble a big smile.
The sky puts up a show every evening for brave folks who sustain the freezing mornings. Evenings…the only colors of an otherwise mundane winter life. Live crimson while it lasts.
A haiku for Ronovan weekly prompt ‘mundane – wicked’. It seemed challenging to bring the two unwieldy characters together. They look like they are tolerating each other in my haiku. Thanks for the harmony folks! Christmas is turning everyone into fairies 🙂
humdrum winter grey
rolls out a crimson evening
Thanks for stopping by. Have a christmassy crimson week.
The same way as we are tailored to maintain an outwardly calm face, nature follows its own code of conduct. Who can sense a storm churning in the sea’s belly! Teary clouds give away hidden grief now and then. Else it’s a well groomed calmness. It’s a wonder how we as humans, and nature as a force of life, exist in such conflicting avatars. One constantly keeping the other in check. Only when the sea breaks do we know what had been hiding behind the angelic smile.
This haiku is for Ronovan weekly haiku prompt placid & wild. Picture by Simone Dasgoni (Pexels)
storm simmers within
Have a smooth sailing week ahead 🙂
Days are getting cold, nights colder. Stay warm and take care!
It’s only human to think that our existence has impacted our surroundings, and we are here to leave an undying impression. On the contrary, what we gather in a lifetime is a mere understanding, most times a petty fraction, of the environment we live in. While we must be jubilant of the path we have traveled, of the marks we have left on time, and of our ability to sustain life in totality, we must know we are all controlled by a larger force. Our achievements, our findings, our understanding are as vulnerable and temporary as the patterns the wind creates on sand.
But winds must blow across the deserts, new patterns must form. Sand is the wind’s kaleidoscope! Dunes must fall and rise, and touch the sky. History may be prone to haze but we must walk the sands.
This haiku for Ronovan’s weekly prompt sand and haze. This picture from my album, brought back memories of golden dunes sparkling under the Dubai Sun.