a white handkerchief
fluttering in a flickering film –
open and beautiful, shivering
through wind and rain
saying nothing very much –
only that the world turns
that spring will come
that there is always something
some small light
some pale flower trembling
A poem of gratitude, for Sherry at earthweal. “Earthweal’s mantra is grief and hope.”
I started a gratitude journal a few weeks ago, at a time when it was hard to feel grateful. It’s gently morphed into something slightly different – this is the place where I write down the moments that make me stop and absorb. I’m grateful for those moments because for a breath, a pause, a heartbeat, I am taken out of myself. I forget myself.
What I realised a couple of days ago is that these are haiku moments. The moments we step outside of time, the moments we want to share with the universe.
an oak tree
a circle of gold
A haibun for Frank at dVerse. We are thinking about thankfulness in this Thanksgiving week.
It’s a miserable day. The drive down to the city is messy and difficult – too much rain, too much spray from the road, poor visibility. All the autumn colours are washed out, greyed by the rain.
We take biscuits, shortbread in a fancy tin. I don’t know why we take them today – maybe we’re feeling particularly grateful to the nursing staff who pad gently round the clinic, who are always smiling, who offer comfort and reassurance. They are warmth on this bleak November day.
a red leaf
smoke in the air
Frank is taking care of the dVerse bar tonight. Thanksgiving is coming up and we are asked to consider gratitude.