Haibun for gardening

Tussling with thistles taller than me, sprouting like something I saw in a black and white Doctor Who and remembered with terror for decades, in the sun too hot for spring and crickets vying with blackbirds for airspace, I feel the year running away from me already.

the Dagda stopped the sun once

for nine months

one way of hiding your guilt

and if the child turned out bad

you could always blame his mother

Poem for Bealtaine

1280px-Red_Rose_Blossom

The first rose blooms beneath the rain,

Soft-falling,

Spangling the green with ephemeral diamonds.

First rose blooms,

Flame red calling

The fires that herald summer.

Promise of abundance,

Flame, flower, and fertile earth,

She opens her arms to embrace the world,

Springing from earth’s cradle,

Bringing to birth,

The beauty of life.