Kim is hosting Haibun Monday over at dVerse poets this week and bids us:
“write about an encounter with an insect: it can be a beautiful or a scary experience, one that enlightened or surprised you; it can be about an ordinary or an unusual insect. Aim to write no more than three tight paragraphs about your encounter with an insect, followed by a traditional haiku that includes reference to the season.”
Canyon Walls and Dragonflies
Grey rocks stand in stark juxtaposition to the red sandstone walls of the canyon. The brutal heat of the desert sun retreats as early sunlight casts it’s subtle glow. A pretty little river plays it’s gentle song. Not so long ago, rampaging fury carved this canyon with boulders and floods. But for now, all is at peace.
A tiny dragonfly alights on a slender blade before my eyes, fanning her delicate wings in the cool morning air. And all at once, I see. I see the magic of the canyon. Why it is called Zion, sanctuary, sacred ground. I see the magic of the land and water. I see the insect transform into a delicate winged fairy bidding me come, look deeper, see.
Summer’s child pauses a slender reed bends beneath her glorious wings
Sometimes life comes along and gently raps you on the forehead saying “pay attention.” Other times it grabes a 2×4 and shouts “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW!” The later has been my life of late (you can read all about it here).
While I certainly have not anticipated or enjoyed the changes brought on by this crisis, let me tell you it has changed us in some ways for the better. You never appreciate something or someone quite so much as when you suddenly realize that you are in imminent danger of losing said person or thing. Suddenly that daily routine you took for granted becomes an acre of diamonds that you know will hold all the riches you could ever hope for, if you could just get it back.
The magical mundanities of daily life, those cherished brushes of hand and lip, the occasional frustration that comes with the comingling of lives, these too are precious.
My life has been a series of glorious triumphs and disastrous failures all wrapped up with the shining ribbon of hope.
There is a Chinese Parasol tree in Kyoto, Japan. Grown from the seeds of the hibakujumoku, the trees that survived Hiroshima. It is a humbling reminder that the power of man to do evil cannot defeat the power of nature to heal and survive. For dVerse Poets Haibun Monday.
A Phoenix in Kyoto – Haibun Monday
Tall and green she shares her shade. Born of the hibakujumoku, survivor of horror and black rain. So much death surrounded her as buildings crashed and humans burned and life evaporatated. Yet, she survives. As the Phoenix rises from the ashes, and the moon pulls in on herself nature waxes full once more in the steady march of time. Her seeds came to this place where she stands in quiet testimony, reminding all that the stupidity of man is no match for the beauty of nature.
no atrocity cancels blessings of nature greening comes again