I remain seemingly alone, unassuming, on a fringe lush and tender. Day-by-day cars whizz me by; as strangers we remain. The world of smiles and laughter, youthful chatter, bouncing life – like Eagles flying, unstoppable, dynamic – and life passes me by. Children take hold of my branches bare, lifting themselves to greater heights. Older folk, picking the wildest of greens, lean on my trunk taking yet one more breath. Those in between, by my side rest, in the shade of my leaves, seeking respite from the tyranny of dreams. And I dream to be like them, to walk and run and fly.
dare I take a step?
roots hold me fast to the earth –
for I was made a tree
Sometimes we are disabled, whether it by by illness, unfulfilled dreams or factors beyond our control. It is hard to watch while the rest of the world gets on with it seemingly happy, successful and fulfilled. Yet even then we have something to offer. The fruit of such suffering, like the humble earth, holds and nurtures all that settles on it often giving birth to new life where there was none.
The photo was taken by a dear friend of mine outside the village of Sellas in the Peloponnese (Greece), many thanks for the inspiration 🙂
The grass soft and prickly, running along train tracks. Soaring on two wheels, falling through the cracks. Sunlight peaks through leaves, piercing outer shells. Delightful squeals of laughter, spontaneous tales of old. Muted dusk the day after, quiet soles fall on the porch. Snuggle into bed, tucked tight;sweet dreams my child, sleep well, goodnight.
cries the depths of night
where young footprints left their mark –
Tenderness e’er lives
**************************************************************** Written for Haibun Thinking in response to the Art Prompt by Anja Partin. The prompt reminded me of my childhood memories. As a child my mum would take my brothers and I out to play at the park and I remember her telling us stories before bed and her sitting on the front porch on summer nights enjoying a port with my aunty as my brothers, cousins and I would ride our bikes up and down the streets.
Written for Heeding Haiku With HA:Random Words. The challenge is to write a haiku/tanka using three random words. Many thanks to my three friends who provided me with a word each: juicy, seduction and manipulation. The picture was taken in Crete, I was amazed to find this olive tree growing within a small room of a dilapidated monastery.
‘Tis all unexpected really. Shells dig deep into my feet. Stinging blood seeps through layers of sand compact. I run along the soft wetness, arms outstretched, trying to catch the wind as the band plays in the background; drums beating, trumpets singing, feet tapping. Spiralling round and round, I hit the ground and the wet waves wilfully wrap me up. Whisk me away, O fearful waves, to tear-filled graves, that I may swim again.
awkward textures chase running up, down and around – that joyful sorrow