Gogyohka for light rain

wind in the poplars

hisses sea-whispers

and booms over the hills

with the bellowing notes

of the organ of the deeps

 

rain on the meadow

falls a flurry of steely grey

tossed by the wind

moving on

leaves crystal drops on window panes

 

moon tossed

from cloud to herringbone cloud

the ocean sky swims

with shoals of light

halos of rain-promise

Lamp light

 

From the dead tree a moon hangs

between poplar and oak,

between night and day,

and all this light floods the fields

in gentle waters, silent night songs,

sentinel of the dusk,

twilight beacon,

lighting the woodpecker home.

Haibun for a footprint

An achievement worth celebrating, that giant step, the impossible dream realised. Yet closer to my heart is that first step on the trail of tears, the bamboo raft setting out across the world ocean of a flat earth, the hundred mile walk across a desert carrying a sick child, cattle trucks rattling to foul death, all journeys of a lifetime, a death, an inspiration.

Moonprints

in undisturbed dust

reminding us that where we tread

a trace remains—

tread softly.

Nightfall tanka

night sinks on sounds

seeping between the trunks

of sleeping trees

and shadows full of birdsong

the moon’s silver makes secrets

Moonlight tanka

in the tree

a moon is humming lullabies

to the stars

rocked in light birds sleep

fox sniffs the wind

Cloudy night

 

Behind

the cloud veil hangs

a solstice moon, taunting

the darkness, herding stars in night’s

pastures.

Silvering

 

after the rain the moon

like sand settling

silver

in animal pelts

half-shadows

half grainy movement.

I sift the grains

the crosshatched trees

for the magical hare

in the pooled darkness

of these shifting seas

but the night closes

after the rain

full of moon-wash

silvering

my elusive wilderness.