cricket meditates ~ haiku

cricket meditates
considers silence of loss
broken by dry leaves


September 11th brings to me a need to write something about the loss of that day in 2001,
but each year I find myself at a loss for words. All I have for today is this haiku.


Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #101 Photoshopping Haiku “Cricket Silence”
asks us to revise the following haiku:

cricket silence
between scraping sounds
autumn begins
© Jane Reichhold

Image source: The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Earthworm and Cricket, by Kitagawa Utamaro

message of hatred ~ sedoka

message of hatred
for unsuspecting victims
dispensed by madmen with guns

as a nation grieves
bodies continue to fall
in world where no place is safe

 

This sedoka is my response to
Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #96 Little Ones … Sedoka

A Sedoka is an unrhymed poem composed of two katauta. A katauta is able to stand alone, with three lines and a syllable pattern of 5-7-7. A Sedoka therefore has the syllable count: 5-7-7, 5-7-7.  Each katauta must be able to be read independently, but also create a cohesive singular work in the Sedoka.

Mass shootings, fueled by nationalism, bigotry and hatred continue at an accelerated pace in the United States, a place where such events are becoming the new norm in news cycles.

dancing on the beach ~ renga

Carpe Diem #1697 Renga with Jane Reichhold … placing the flute
asks us to create a renga (or chain of verses) by following
each provided haiku by Jane Reichhold
(in blue), in any order, with two lines.
A “closed chain” is attained when the hokku (starting verse)
and ageku (closing verse)
connect in a way to make “the circlecomplete.

dancing on the beach
I jab a stick into the sky
to break up the blue

sun giving way to shadow
welcome relief of evening

days so complete
words become the calls of birds
the high tide wind

carries the scent of sea foam
mingling with all most pleasant

wind perfumed
from a woman’s shoulder
desert night

carried across the mountains
like a song riding the breeze

placing the flute
against her lips something
slips into place

a tune that piques the senses
with charms that arouse desire

moon white water
lovers in the secret cove
Saturday night

long hours gazing at the stars
wisdom reaching through the years

I’m not old
all night my eyes have held
the ancient stars

until deep dark of night sky
yields to light of morning’s blue

Images source: pexels.com / Dominika Roseclay