another walking haiku and a haibun - New Day
under these hills
surely the rocks remember
New Day (haibun)
I draw back the curtains - a strip of white mist hangs over the river and shines as if lit from inside. The sun has just appeared over the hill and elongated hedge shadows stripe the meadow.A few pale sheep darken the ground beyond them and the pine tree in the garden projects itself like an arrow across the lawn, where melting frost sparkles on blades of grass in thousands of tiny eyes.
I take a chair into the sunlight which radiated through the tree towards me. Already I can feel its warmth on my face. Beside me the stream chuckles as if falls over boulders clothes in a thick layer of gleaming moss. How long did it take to grow ? I remember rolling those stones into place twenty five years ago, diverting the water so I could hear it chattering from the kitchen. Now its many layered liquid sounds are reminiscent of the Bach cantata I heard earlier on the radio - it was a lullaby sung by Simeon to the infant Jesus in the temple - speaking of comfort and resolution in old age and hope for a new world in the future.
I warm my hands. clasping a mug of hot tea.The young tom kitten plays with my slippers, jumps up into my lap and bites my hand. New life - a young hunter learning to face the wild. Everything is exciting to explore, to test, to try and to confront.
each new moment
a leap into the unknown
my knowing old smile
After chasing about among shrubs and sniffing the water, he suddenly returns to curl up on my knees and purr. He is still in need of reassurance - a tiny grey and white striped tiger with blue eyes and white whiskers. The veins in my hand stand out like twigs and a purple bruise is spreading where he drew blood. My old skin is thin and fragile.
this golden morning
all the world is laughing
as time runs out.
Absolutely gorgeous, Jane. You are flowering again.
What a very beautiful haibun Jane. Thank you.