Outside my window,
hidden behind the
curtains,
the shadows danced
silently,
shadow and moonlight
partnered
dancing to music
only they could
hear,
music of their own
making
carried on the late night air.
And I,
hearing my own
song sung,
my own music played,
joined them, silently,
partnered
with shadow, too,
swirling,
twirling,
turning, a slow
waltz,
dancing,
carried down a long path
to home
and back again.
- 2 Haiku and a Bridge -
The night sky dawns, hushed;
stars punctuating darkness,
calling out, “Truth! Truth!”
But there are some who fear the
night
and the darkness and the stars punctuating
that dark expanse with starlight shining through,
carrying the wisdom of the ages and
its truth,
truths carried age to age in the
constellations
and the stories and the gods, and afraid,
they hide
themselves inside, away from the
darkness, hide
behind the artificial light of
ignorance and fear,
and they do not listen, do not see,
do not hear
the still small voices of the ages,
the sages
of time calling out, “Truth! Truth!”
whispered to those too afraid to
hear.
Truth called out, softly
spoken, rising, crescendoed,
in starlight dawning.
The lake this morning was satin,
shimmering in muted sunlight,
a fashion statement of grace and
elegance
in this slow waltz of nature waking
in the grand ballroom of morning.
A summer’s day, and a cool breeze
billowing the sails visible now
on the distant horizon, silent
and swift, a reminder, perhaps,
of a time of commerce and leisure,
the trade winds of another era,
another time, gone now, but
for a small instant, an instance
celebrated, relived in a collective
memory
of time and yearning and pageantry,
the spirit of the sea uplifted.
