NaPoWriMo 23 - Autumn

For day 23, a haibun.

AUTUMN

As I enjoy the colours of autumn, it also reminds me to let go of old paradigms, worn and tattered beliefs, past-its-expiry-date relationships, outdated concepts that no longer serve. Yes, it's hard. For don't we all love the old and comfy, whether it be things or thoughts. The security blanket of the tried and tested.

Autumn sings hymns of
dissolution. Quiet death.
Spring smiling sleeps.

So, just like trees need to let go of the old and dying, lay bare their branches and go through a period of rest and slumber, for new buds to spring forth and life to begin anew, we need to empty ourselves of the old and outworn, so that life can replenish us with the fresh and the new.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 22 - Homecoming

For NaPoWriMo 22, a poem celebrating Earth Day.

Homecoming - tanka

It is always  pure
pleasure. Walking on grass, leaves, 
the bare-bodied earth.

As though my body-soul knows 
it has come home to Mother.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 11 - You

 For day 11, love talk.

The moon it seemed had
lit up the wings of the wind
pale ebullience

but my soul knows it is You.
Everywhere I go it's You.

***

NaPoWriMo 9 - A fragment of a dream

For day 9, a sweet, sad poem on a dream I saw the other day -


A terse dream this was,
broken, anguished, blurred,
of which a fragment remains
in my memory, embedded.

A wayward bullet strikes
at lightning speed your chest,
passing through it spears,
calmly, through my breast.

Locked in a gaze we stand,
as love flows out the wounds.
Caught tight in death’s hand
as the dream softly fades.

On waking, for long I ponder;
did our souls our bodies flee
at the same moment, together?
Did they merge to become free?

Did pain set our insides afire?
Is sorrow the bullet that incinerates,
torching our ignorance, our desire,
and into freedom thus liberates?

~~~

NaPoWriMo 8 - My second skin

MY SECOND SKIN

My house bathed in moonlight, rests,
silent and welcoming,
and I breathe love into its spaces.

It seems a reflection of me,
the way the furniture is arranged,
the chairs facing each other.

Do they talk among themselves, I wonder,
in the stillness of the night,
picking up bits of broken-off conversation?

Does the warm air twirling up the stairs,
or the slippers, discarded, under the bed,
remind it of us, when we are away.

Do the walls rejoice with the tinkle of laughter,
does the carpet hoard shards
of my shattered dreams.

Does it feel protective, caring,
shielding us from wind and rain,
silent witness to silent pain.

Content, replete, joyous,
I settle into its calm stillness,
and it wraps itself around me.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 7 - My Lord calls to me

For Day 7, a hymn -

My Lord calls to me
in the early morning light
‘kuhu-kuhu’ she sings
in joyous dulcet tones.

My Lord enfolds me
in the early morning mist,
ethereal and uplifting
like mother’s love.

My Lord sings to me
from the violin’s bow,
gliding on the strings
in heartrending melody.

My Lord looks at me
from beggar-child eyes
in desperate hope,
for alms, for love.

My Lord comes to me
in hands that help,
voices that comfort,
and hearts that hug.

My Lord whispers to me
amid the clamour of worship,
“Be still. Just be. ”
“I am in the silence”.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 6 - Number games

For day 6, a pensive poem.

A NUMBER GAME - haiku

age, birthdays, death days
number games the world plays, ending
in nothingness

~~~

Nothing like one's birthday to ponder over the ephemeral nature of life.

NaPoWroMo 5 - Silence

On Day 5, I was silent, so had to write a poem on Silence.


The sound
of a heart breaking
is always silence.

Broken dreams
walk about with
footfalls of silence.

And yet,silence
also holds within its folds
pearls of hope.

Like shards of moonlight,
breaking through clouds
on the darkest night.

~~~

NoPoWriMo 4 - My heart is a shrine

For day 4, a love poem.

My heart is a shrine, it seems,
loves come and go like pilgrims.

Some come seeking solace,
some to unlock the joy in their hearts.

And yet others come with footsteps heavy with sorrow,
and I wait for them to undam their pain.

Until release comes in torrent upon stormy torrent,
all pain washed clean by blessed tears.

And yet what can I give,
but the God that is within me?

This lamp of love you have lit with your hands, Oh Lord,
and sheltered it from innumerable storms.

My song of praise is my only offering,
and my heart lifted up in gratitude.

~~~

NaPoWriMo 3 - Rapture

A haiga for day 3.

NaPoWriMo 1 - Light

April is National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). The intention is to write a poem a day for the whole month

I begin with a haiga.