The sky looks down with beseeching grey eyes that stare back at it from new potholes in the tired asphalt. The monsoon has stopped to catch a breath, its furious outburst now just a wet note left on the soggy air, ink dripping slowly down the rounded edges of its calligraphed verse.
There must be a word for this Marcus, this after-rain heaviness, this turbulent mix of relief and melancholy, a moment when every word can be written yet there isn’t one to describe how the leaves carry the last raindrops in their trembling hands, wanting to hold them a little longer before the wind or sun stakes a claim.
It is that realization of their transience that improves their worth.
Like life. Knowing death.
A pause. A pause that was a surrogate silence holding up a placard, calling on someone to speak. Anyone. Instead, we watch the branch quiver under the wing of a hungry raven, blades of grass raising their heads to catch the falling shower. The leaf, unburdened, alone, shone a dull green in the liquefied sunlight.
No. There are no words.
awake in the eyrie
the eagle dreams of shooting stars
burning the sky
All up, a delightful read. Thank you.
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Thanks Cosmo.
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lovely, lovely…
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Thanks Sumana.. a new blog – an experiment for now. Glad you liked it.
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I love this mixture of description and philosophising.
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Thanks so much Rosemary.. am realizing how hard managing two blogs can be!! 🙂
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Your haibun is raining a world of rich imagery. I found myself breathing a bit harder in front of the idea of a the monsoon stopping to his breath. What power!
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Thanks so much Magaly! 🙂
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A delightful poetical piece of writing.
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Thanks Julian 🙂
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What joy to read this beautiful haibun especially with the eagle thinking of better times!
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Thanks so much Robin. Glad you liked it.
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Such a mesmerizing haibun 🙂
Beautifully done.
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Thanks Sanaa.
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the imagery is breathtaking!
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Thanks so much.
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I love your vision of eagle’s dreams.
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Thanks Kerry.
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This has a very mystical feel as if the ancient eagle spirit has paid you a call. The storms may come, but we must remember that the sun will rise again even in uncertainty. A haunting haibun.
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Thank you Truedessa… love the idea of the ancient eagle spirit..I must look out for it.
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Vivid. 🙂 I especially like the descriptions of the sky staring down at the earth. Very rich and understandable, given Bangalore is so cloudy these days.
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Indeed, I seem to be writing only about the monsoon..can’t wait for some real sunshine! Thanks Leo.
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Oh my goodness. This is one of the most beautiful poems ever! I was arrested by the sky’s beseeching grey eyes, by the weight of the after-rain heaviness, by the raven, and the grass raising its heads to catch the drops….and especially by that eagle, dreaming of shooting stars. Spectacular imagery, and drenched with mood. Fantastic!
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Thanks Sherry, that’s very kind. Am so glad you liked it.
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I love this section: “its furious outburst now just a wet note left on the soggy air, ink dripping slowly down the rounded edges”
And this: “there isn’t one to describe how the leaves carry the last raindrops in their trembling hands”
I think your approach here, talking to “Marcus,” is brilliant. I do this, I suppose … just, talking to myself. If you have one person in mind as your audience, I think your writing probably comes out better. Maybe not, but I think it’s likely. Don’t you?
“calling on someone to speak. Anyone. Instead, we watch the branch quiver” … Man, if you’re ever waiting for someone to speak, let it be you! Forget the group-think. Just shout your s/h/i/t, man. Get it out there, loud and hardcore. Don’t be shy. The best leaders are loud-mouthed assholes, if you ask me. I’m certainly in the minority, but there’s something to be said for just extending your jaw and letting fall, whatever wants out, to come. Even if it seems jumbled and messy; at least you gave breath to the truth, as you saw it, in that moment.
“under the wing of a hungry raven, blades of grass raising their heads to catch the falling ” … I love that grass/catch rhyme. Very nice. Maybe that’s what we need: let’s just all get in a circle, and pass-a-round/smoke a peace pipe. 🙂
Beautiful haiku, too.
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Perhaps easier to set out contrasting views is a conversation with another person! Thanks so much.
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luv, luv, luv your haibun. A happy Sunday to you
much love…
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Thank you Gillena.
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I must ditto Sherry’s comment. This was absolutely beautiful. The images and references to the mood nature creates are so enthralling. I loved reading this.
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Thanks so much Myrna.
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interesting experiment with Marcus – O do like the new blog format and the haibun – and “realization of their transience that improves their worth” 🙂
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Thanks Laura 🙂
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a beautiful read that left me at the end of monsoon embracing the last few raindrops and the stillness of and eagle in wait….thank you for sharing your thoughts and words…bkm
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Thanks so much. Glad you liked it!
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Good Work! Your talent keeps maturing with delight.
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Thanks so much ZQ! Appreciate the kind words.
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I share the eagle’s dream…
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🙂 Thanks Magic.
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