Quadrille Monday – Wanderings

This canopied road hugs the contour of the mountainside.  

To the left, a precipice.

The depth, more than I can put a distance to.

At the bottom, a river tumbles along, chatting in the wind as it goes.

I pause to nourish my soul.

Pat

4/2/24

A moment from my recent trip.

For dVerse Poets Pub where the prompt is “Contour”

To participate or just read go here.

Escape

I have been plotting an escape up to the mountains for a while now. But it never seems to work out.

I don’t want to leave just to have to turn around and come back. Too much on my plate, as my mom used to say.

So, until then, I dream. The mountain air mixed with the melodies of the rambunctious creek, always brings me peace.

in rural fields

a favorite country scene –

grazing horses

Pat

3/5/22

A haibun for Colleens Tanka Tuesday Challenge where the prompt word is :Green. I used Rural, who knew rural was a synonym for green, I didn’t! But I can see it now.🙂

To participate or to read other entries go here

Haibun Monday @dVerse Poets

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On the rural route up to the mountains there’s much to see. Horses grazing in fields, and farm houses with red barns and silohs. It’s really like driving through a postcard setting. I’ve seen crows on the side of the road picking at a carcass, and a majestic eagle soar from it high perch keeping an eye on them. But, I’ve yet to see a snow owl. Their domain is the dark of night, while the earth sleeps under a blanket of snow. Though I’ve not seen them, they might have seen me. When the snow on the ground makes light the night. And I slip out onto the porch into the arms of the night. So, I wait for that someday when I get to experience seeing or hearing a snow owl. Till then they live in my imagination.

a hoot here, then there
in the shadows of the moon –
snow owl’s made a match

Pat R

11/13/17

For

Fukuroo–Who? Who? Who? dVerse Haibun Monday

 

Autumn Blues

 

It has been a strange eight days mired in joy, anxiety, stress and sadness.

Two home-goings, one way before his time. An ambitious young man, twenty two years old, on a new journey to law school. Now, a journey diverted, a soul called home. Leaving a mother grief stricken and numb.

The other, of her time. She had lived some life.

In between these, was a wedding in a most peaceful setting in the mountains. This odd mix of joy and sorrow came in threes.

short goodbyes –
lurking in cool air
autumn blues

Pat R
8/31/17

Arise

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Arise! Spring has sprung
Mountain creek is holding court
A roaring spring melt

Pat R

3/28/17

For Carpe Diem Haiku
For more details on the prompt or to participate go here

Inspired by:

O slumbering one, the beloved has arrived, arise!

Brush off the dust of sleep and self, arise!

Behold the good will has arrived,

Come not before him with tears, arise!

The mender of concerns has come to you,

O heavy-hearted one, arise!

O one afflicted by separation,

Behold the good tidings of the beloved’s union, arise!

O you withered by autumn,

Now spring has come, arise!

Behold the New Year brings a fresh life,

O withered corps of yesteryear, up from your tomb, arise!

© Tahirih (Tr. Farzaneh Milani)

True Silence

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my inner voice
like remnants of an echo
thrives in true silence

2

in the peaceful scenes
of the mountains silence reigns
melodious creek
and the wind in trees bring me
to a place of true silence

Pat R

3/18/17

For Carpe Diem Namasté The Spiritual Way #5 self consciousness
To see other entries or to join in go here

Inspired by:

old barn
in the middle of the field
so desolate
a playground for the wind
deep silence of no where

(c) Chèvrefeuille

&

“…There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep deep sea,
Or in the wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox, or wild hyena, calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan,
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone. …”

(c) Thomas Hood

Also for https://booknvolume.com/2016/10/18/lavish-dailyhaikuchallenge/