Emergence ~ haiku

The following five haiku/senryū were included in my submission to Pure Haiku for the most recent theme, Emergence. The fourth and fifth appeared at Pure Haiku on March 7th and April 16th. My thanks go to Freya Pickard for featuring these.


true spirit revealed
a nature too long hidden
gender acceptance

chrysalis of green
parting as beauty unfolds
regal orange and black

long wait is over
nurtured in a mother’s warmth
a child’s eyes open

after long nights’ sleep
bear wakes in darkness of den
hungry for daylight

neurons fire, thoughts coalesce

Image source: screenshot from this YouTube video


Unrelated news items that pulled me in:

A kiss can be the most intimate of expressions – its true intent known only to those in the exchange, yet interpreted by all who witness it.  Unfortunately, too often the reaction to that exchange, and to the relationship, by others outside of it is not one of acceptance.  Where does this end?

Passion is not limited to relationships.  Sometimes it’s expressed as the pursuit of, and love for, an activity.  Sadly, tragedy can bring an end to that passion in its last moments.


reaction to a simple kiss by
religion of terrorism
to proclaim an ideology

passion for great heights
and the open air
swept away in a moment

following news with shields down
remind self that weight of sadness
greatest for families devastated

Over the years, I’ve learned to reserve my emotions when reading or viewing tragic news.  I don’t turn them off, so I suppose I compartmentalize them.  I didn’t do that today.  First, in following the news about the mass shooting in Orlando; and then, reading about a hot air balloon tender who fell to his death when winds swept the balloon away after the riders disembarked.  Sometimes I have to remind myself that my sadness is incidental.



What is optimistic freedom, if it’s not
the freedom to be optimistic in the face of
insurmountable odds?

And what are those odds?

Is that like someone saying
you can use the restroom
when you pry the key from their cold, dead hands?

What is that, if not odd?

After all, everyone has to come to
their senses sometime, don’t they?
Or do they?

What if they’re asking the same question?

Maybe their optimistic freedom involves everyone else
coming to their senses.
It’s totally senseless to figure them out, if you ask me.

They would be the first to tell you they’ll be the last ones to come to their senses.


Day Fourteen of 2016 NaPoWriMo.
Image source: tomsitpro.com