Mujo; a Haibun

moonflowers

Moonflowers by Nampu Katayama; Bing Images

These days my heart is aflutter and excitement is coursing through my every cell it seems. I feel almost electric and distracted at times too.  There is a strong memory of these feelings from my past and yet in a way I’m more in control of my faculties than I was before.  Perhaps it’s because I realize the impermanence of relationships.  No-thing lasts forever but I’m ready to take advantage of what has presented itself and to see where it goes and I along with it for however long it lasts…and enjoy the journey.

summer’s moon flower
wilts as the days grow shorter
refreshing breeze stirs

Toni is our host for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets.  Join us as we explore this Japanese form and write on change or impermanence.

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Constant Change

Shadows dappled across the door’s screen as I gazed outside
to watch a scene play out that’s in constant motion.
The hibiscus, delphinium and charming-faced pansy all
have an extra bud or two and the Mandevilla vine has
twined in-and-out around the trellis, filling in its empty spaces.
There against the base of the tall, sturdy pine, lies a
pile of needles not there when last checked–
discarding the old to patiently wait for spring’s new.
The old oak  has a squirrel attached to its bark,
hanging upside down by his toes, perusing the yard.
I catch the swift flight of the tiny Palm Warbler
as he vanishes within the branches of the fuchsia-hued Crepe Myrtle.
The orange and black Monarch, that routinely visits, is nuzzling about
in the prickly-stemmed lantana, replenishing his nectar.
I spy a lone bumble bee, heavily hovering among the declining
sunflowers picking up pollen along his erratic, solo journey.
It’s late in the day and the sunlight is waning, so I
wait for the cardinals to make their appearance–
they always fly in late to visit the feeder.
There’s a slight chill in the air as this evening approaches,
so more changes will be arriving.  The toads will find haven
under the deep-mulched leaves, while lizards will hitchhike
aboard when I bring the potted plants inside.
It’s the way of nature;  it’s always in motion, change is
inevitable–the only permanence we can count on.


My entry for Monday’s Poetry Potluck Week 12

Wightrabbit

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