My month of haiku-ing is wrapping up and I have to say, I’m sad to see it go.
There is something so small but essential for me about this tiny act of noticing.
In the midst of earthquakes and civil rights breakdowns and more personal heartbreaks, haiku is a way to take a breath and, also, to breathe something back into the world that might be a little lovely. Or hopeful. Or true. Haiku doesn’t fix any of these monumentally big and daunting crises, but it doesn’t ignore them either. It stands alongside them and says let’s not forget to notice, in the midst of everything. Let’s not forget to breathe.
Haiku 22
April 22, 2015
Egg, soup, berries, wine
What a world, that gives us this!
All this, and you too…
Haiku 23
April 23, 2015
Artist, canvas, paint
She’s so busy noticing
Doesn’t notice me
Haiku 24
April 24, 2015
Black and wet and gray
The whole day is colorless
Except the radar
Haiku 25
April 25, 2015
The rain delivers
a whole park-full of mushrooms:
fairy brigadoon
Haiku 26
April 26, 2015
To leap, plunge and gasp,
strip the whole, hot day away:
water’s reminder
Haiku 27
April 27, 2015
A walk with the dog
can feel just so important
that the dinner burns
Haiku 28
April 28, 2015
All the world rages
All the world weeps, screams, falls, quakes
But this babbles, shines
These are so wonderful, Liz! I see that I missed a few this week–crazy nutty busy, as my blogmate April said. I especially appreciate your thoughts about continuing in spite of–or because of–all the chaos around us. I’m so glad I followed your good example this month. Paying attention provides its own reward. xox
I have just LOVED your poems, JoAnn. Let’s meet up again next April, yes? xxooo
Next April? Yes, I hope so!