National Poetry Month — Haiku 23

I know you don’t think "lush" when you think of Texas, but I’m not kidding you when I say that spring here is positively spongy and fragrant and green.

I’ve always really like all the pagan-naturalist messages of spring — the rebirths and possibilities — and there are flower buds and baby birds enough to believe all that right now.

But, also, there is something about spring that is so … transitory.
I mean, really, not to be a downer but the buds are so brief and the cool evenings will be steamy soon and the greens are likely to get a little brown around the edges.
And that’s all okay, I guess. 
There’s some sort of maturity that comes with the next seasonal change, and with accepting the next seasonal change.

For now, though, for a little while longer, it’s still spring.

Haiku 23
4/23/2010

butterflies migrate — 
a world of orange in the yard
momentarily

6 Responses to “National Poetry Month — Haiku 23”

  1. Anonymous

    tanita says 🙂

    …most people don’t even see the transitory nature of Spring. They see autumn, leading to Winter, which is all bare twigs and deadness — autumn’s transitional nature is obvious, but the “brown-around-the-edges” thing doesn’t cause most people a little twinge…

    Spring is the adolescence of the natural world, really, a time of struggle and transition. I like the idea of acceptance — summer and winter seem to last longer, but we must accept that renewal and decline are brief moments of hello/goodbye.

    How can so few syllables kick off such deep thoughts? 😉

  2. mlyearofreading

    I love that word “momentarily.” It is so small, and yet it packs everything needed for the entire last line of your haiku. It is everything and it is almost nothing at all. It is what it says it is.