I cannot truthfully claim agency or credit, when the sweetness of a summery moment loosens me outside my portals awhile and lets a haiku-like awareness inside…
watching a yellow dragonfly
my lover bows a soulful cello
though she does not exist
~ • ~
plants called weeds proliferate
because I paid no gardener
their tallness sways unstable
signalling the subtlest breeze
who says langour has no recompense
~ • ~
a propeller plane drones
in no distinct direction
unseen across a boundless sky
exactly like when I was seven
~ • ~
that wall of maples and beeches
made an expanse of cool dark shadow
so the busy marmot munching sweet grass
could erect and ponder one instant
~ • ~
I can never tell you
how the wild white rosebush smells
on wednesday afternoon
~ • ~
the still cloud suspended
by translucent cords
can only change shape
when you look away quickly
~ • ~
do you notice it, love
what’s secreted inside the sunlight’s warmth
not just temperature
but devotion and beneficence
and clarity of thought
spiritual insight and serene awakening
and even instructions about kissing
~ • ~
first a haiku
is more
like a feeling
you can’t let the thinking
flood in
_______RS
[ Image : from an illustration for the well-known poet Mary Oliver’s tribute to nature in summer. ]
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I would say you captured the magic if I didn’t know that it was the magic that captured you…. A beautiful collection.
thanks for appreciating, William. yes — I had to be receptive to it, or nada 🙂
Lovely poem!
This line stood out to me: “who says langour has no recompense”
Thanks much, Michele. yes, I liked that line too 🙂
Beautiful! My favorite is the one about what’s secreted inside the warm sunlight, especially the part about instructions on kissing. Puts a new spin on the expression “kissed by the sunlight.”
Thanks Deborah! My favorites fluctuate. The one you picked is a good one… I like the one about how roses smell.
Simply magical. 💜
Thanks mucho, Carol! Purple heart — wow 🙂
Your first one,
“watching a yellow dragonfly
my lover bows a soulful cello
though she does not exist”
So romantic…
.the wishful dreamer in the field.
I love this!
Alright… one vote for the imaginary cellist! Thanks sincerely, Karima. I like that one too. 🙂
My pleasure 🙂