I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

31 October 2008

Heading for the sky: haiku and things for October 2008


Gone with September
those rainstorms and hard, cold winds.
October hots up.


The Wheel of the Year
keeps turning, as the world turns.
The seasons rotate.


Down here, Down Under,
we complement, not mirror.
A parallel world!


Today in Pottsville
in an absence of traffic
and a flood of sun
the village is somnolent
as backroad afternoons.

(Note: I'm indebted to 'Lady Madelyn', who posts to Haiku on Friday at MySpace, for the phrase 'backroad afternoons'.)


Sky covered in grey.
The only colour I see,
my stained glass window.


Neat hair and beard now,
replacing straggly dreadlocks.
My friend goes to court.


Clouds cover the sky
on the night of the full moon.
Spring rain falls softly.


The sky is clouded.
There is a full moon tonight
that I'll never see.


A flash of bright green.
The first lorikeet of spring
surprises the air.


rainbow lorikeets
colours of autumn leaves, sky
green, red, yellow, blue.


Maple Vine

Red leaves climb a trunk
reaching past the tips of pines,
heading for the sky.


Green spider orchid.
I used to make that essence
helped by the devas
and guided by the Divine.
(It was for divination.)


Spring in the tropics.
The avocadoes ripen,
my wind chime sings loud.


My mother’s birthday.
Ten years and more since she died
but I don’t forget.


I sat by her bed
holding her hand till the end,
reluctant to know.


Ah, once they have crossed,
people love more freely:
no inhibitions!

I'm a medium.
It moves me to tears always,
that unfettered love.


We give them poems.
Our way to honour the dead
who gave us our lives.


Basil garden

As we come closer
it rises to our nostrils,
that savoury scent.



The moon's a sliver.
The ancestors and others
return through darkness.


We breathe together
lighting an etheric fire ...
leap together, fly.


Summer approaches.
Wind and surf sing together.
The trees are dancing.

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