Quarantine Haikus
for my inner child…
and yours.
April 5, 2020
It’s time we see how
we are all the same: inside
our homes, hearts, bodies
some of us fighting
to stay alive while others
go about our days
Yet we all know things
have changed, are changing now, still
So I hold my breath
I’m attempting to
slow down time to feel my feet
steady on the Earth
I listen to her
sighing in relief. Exhale,
she says. And I do.
April 12, 2020
What a time to be
alive! To wake up again
this vessel of flesh
this instrument to
play, explore, test, and fathom
to learn unique truths
How blessed I am to
breathe, to sway and dance with Time
for a few long years
Death is always near
and I’m playing hard to get
tempting him to stay
a little longer
listen to the birds sing, they
know how fast it goes
See the rock resting
on the earth, under the sun
patient, resolute.
O Death, come hither
see how water becomes ice
and vapor and rain
and tears. What more do
you ask of Life, but to live
to experience joy
and pain, too. Heartbreaks
have shown me where I need to
heal. I open up
like a flower in
the night, blooming only once
to perfume the air.
Stay, just a little
longer, hear leaves laughing as
wind tickles their feet
This is your domain
your divine inheritance
and promise to keep
O Death, O Life, I
am yours. And soon I will sleep
but for now, I rise.
May 4, 2020
Forgetting is sweet
yet ignorant bliss. It seeks
only to distance
sometimes it’s enough
to buy us time, to pick up
what we seek to keep
sweep up the rest and
throw it in the wind, carry
this, my pain, away!
Away from sight, it
lands one day, on new fertile
grounds within the mind
like a seed, it grows,
affirming the past once more
forgetting begets
recollection and
repeats the cycle until
time, at last, runs out
perhaps, it’s wiser
then, to face the truth in all
it’s duplicity
No one is ever
only good or bad, saved or
damned, there only is
all can be transformed
not to be better; to be
regarded anew
like the day, which brings
with it yesterday’s scent, yet
presents a blank page
take this, and write down
your pain, appreciate its
depths, and the bits of
glimmering hope that
sparkle in its shadows. Speak
out loud its lessons
directives to re-
member the pieces of your
past, create a map
charting the landscape
the rivers, islands and seas
of your tender heart.
June 1, 2020
Anger is a fire
that starts in the roots before
it consumes the heart.
It begins as a
spark, carried like a torch through
the generations
recorded in the
strands of DNA, archives
of pain, injustice
dreams deferred, hopes
for a better life destroyed
by neighbor and kin.
Anger is a seed
that grows into stems and leaves
seeking expression
like a flower longs
to kiss the sun, inner flames
ache to meet their source.
Anger seeks to be
resolved by being seen, heard,
regarded, transformed.
Denied expression
it continues to course through
the blood, simmering.
Why is it then a
surprise when people uprise
against a world that
continues to stoke
the fires of injustice, pain,
and suffering? Why
is it a surprise
that given a chance, people
take what’s been denied?
Walls of broken glass
bridge worlds of those who have and
have not, shattering
convincing divides.
Anger seeks to be expressed
in multiple ways:
small flames, forest fires,
a burning precinct - symbols
of rage now given
room to breathe. Don’t turn
your head away in dismay
or disapproval.
Look instead within
to the flame you still carry,
see it’s reflections
in the many eyes
on all sides, asking to be
understood. We are
hurting together
in our separate rooms of
pain and desire.
Try to live through this
transformative time. You are
the rightful heir of
your ancestors’ rage.
The tools for change are within:
Fire, Earth, Water, Air.
Your body is the
map to liberation, the
key to lasting peace.
November 11, 2020
Veterans Day
Something moved within
me tonight. A gust of air
brought my younger self
forward, facing me.
Startled, I remembered who
I’ve always been.
The same curious eyes
whispering the same wishes
into the night sky.
I had just left home
Thrust into the outer world
To fend for myself.
“This was not my choice.
I seek to know true freedom,”
words echoed in time.
I chose my own path
away from the herded crowds
I took many risks
to follow my heart.
Time condensed to deliver
What I’m now ready
to hold: my sadness
my rage, and burning will
to thrive in this Life.
I had hidden this
from myself till I could hold
its immensity.
. . .
Emotions are a
source of creative force
for choice and action
. .
My love, come to me.
Ease your eyes, shoulders, and heart.
You’ve traveled so far
and it is night. Come
lay on our sumptuous bed.
You are safe and home
.
