Light falling through leaves

A haibun for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday prompt. A haiku and a tanka frame a piece of prose.

Photo©Domenico Selvagnin

Misty_Trees_(6312466604)

From light, dark grows, night,

scattered with starlight, moonlight—

midnight precedes dawn.

This path leads between waking and sleeping, light and darkness, dusk and dawn. We follow its meanders from spring to deep winter, round and round, until the earth stops turning.

All that keeps me to this path between the deep shadows of night and the misty haze of morning, between the leaves that burst fresh and green and those that tumble in a blaze of autumn fire, is the touch of your hand.

Hold tight to my hand, feel how its clasp is both cool as spring water and hot as summer sunshine, twist my fingers in yours like tresses of light falling through new leaves into the rushing stream.

At dusk, we two walk

bathed in sun motes, golden, soft,

petals at our feet.

Spring blazes from stark black boughs,

already its beauty fades.

Red Balloon

There will always be only one balloon for me, a red one, from the film; Le Ballon Rouge.

Here are two quadrilles for the dverse prompt. The subject is, of course, balloon.

 

Lonely child dreams

of fat trout streams

and wild moonbeams.

In his hand, the string

tight holds, stars sing,

in the night sky ring

the songs of spring.

Balloon pulls high,

with birds into the sky,

he laughs, he can fly,

will never die.

 

 

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Clutch the string tight,

like the moon in the night,

balloon in its flight,

absorbs the pale light,

red glow turns white.

 

Cast wide your dreams,

let flow the sunbeams,

that fall in bright streams,

burst at the seams,

with life the earth teams.

 

Peel back the dark

Art ©Nathalie Ampleman

640px-Saumon

Peel back the dark of the night,

See the stars in their glory,

Scrape away the shade from the light.

 

There’s a place where the moonbeams lie,

I would keep it safe forever,

And stitch up the hole in the sky,

With my needle, gold thread weaving.

Rowan berries lie bright on the ground,

Plucked like stars at your leaving.

 

Leap, silver salmon, wing, grey gull,

I will follow wherever you lead,

To the misty ends of the earth,

For my heavy heart is full,

And my love has taken the light.

Silver and grey, your wild scented path,

Soft feathered, sleek scaled and wise,

I will follow to the end of the night.

 

Fire-born

It was a real struggle to get that first magnet poem. The words I wanted just weren’t there, as if the oracle had other ideas. It was such a struggle I gave it another go, and she banged this one out with no hesitation.

 

Heart of marble,Screen Shot 2017-03-25 at 18.34.34

fire-born,

red as fever,

dark as sacred magic,

wild star,

smoke in its wake,

dances over the sky—

night

morning

universe

eternity.