Back to the Beginning Haībun

Picture Used by kind permission of Ines Williamson

Picture used by kind permission of Ines Williamson

In the yellow light of a new night, the cobblestones echo my thoughts back to me. “Why are you here?” Here is where I started, in a small apartment past that iron gate. The first sunshine I ever remember seeing flooded into my tiny room there on the third floor.

My friends and I played stickball and tackle-tommy in the Magic Between. That special time between school and dinner is what I miss most, that magical time when parents were busy and kids could play. I remember the Between as one big blur, like an endless summer day: my homerun, Jack’s skinned knee and when Bats broke his arm swinging over the fence instead of walking through like everyone else.

I rang in the New Year with my folks in their new place across town, but this golden gateway is where the little-me, my memory, still lives. I remember when Stefan’s snake escaped, and Mrs. Nolan came screaming down her stairs, after finding it curled under her stove.

Is home on these cobbles? Or in the window glass I looked through on a night like tonight? My sister and I wished on a star. Wishes are secret, but mine was to fly in an airplane one day, to be inside one leaving a contrail wide enough to be seen all over the city, knowing people were looking up at the roar I made. Then my sister and I realized the only star in the sky was moving, not a star at all, probably an airplane. Do wishes made on planes come true? This one did.

I came back to my hometown on an airplane, home to see my folks, so happy in their new apartment, all their things reduced and rearranged. My sister is busy with her three kids and their teenage angst, but she came to see me and our parents. I don’t think she really saw me. We barely spoke. I couldn’t think what to say to her. I wonder what her wish was, all those years ago. I know better than to ask. Now a new airplane will take me home to Boston, my other home.

home is in my heart
not here on this cobbled street
but I hear its echo

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by the first Līgo Haībun Challenge of 2014, part of a picture prompt from Ese at Ese’s Voice.

Oak Leaf Tanka

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small oak sapling sways
leaves bob in the bitter wind
frosted with snowflakes

waving to fallen leaf friends
oak leaf lingers to kiss spring buds

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: A Tanka is a Japanese poetry form that has five lines with syllable counts per line of 5, 7, 5, 7, and 7. In another way of thinking of it, a Tanka is a haiku with two longer seven-syllable lines added as a second stanza. Some purists find fault with any rhyming within the poem. The third line is intended to be a turning point, or a pivot, about which the meaning of the poem turns or changes. I don’t know if my poem achieved that or not. I enjoyed learning about it, and I hope you’ll give it a try, too.

References:

http://www.edu.pe.ca/stjean/playing%20with%20poetry/Hennessey/how_to_write_a_tanka_poem.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanka
http://examples.yourdictionary.com/reference/examples/examples-of-tanka-poetry.html
http://www.poetry4kids.com/blog/news/how-to-write-a-tanka-poem/

Chestnuts for the New Year

Welcome 2014

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spiky shells store treats
far up a bare chestnut tree
kept for the new year

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I hope your new year has many saved treats, stored against the long winter.
I also hope you find just what you need, when you first realize you need it. Joyous New Year! 

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Northern Lights Haībun

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Northern lights result from solar emissions traveling across space and colliding with earth, sparking incredible light displays. They can happen any time or any place on earth, but the lights, uncoiling like chinese dragons, are only visible in the darkest night sky. Perhaps we are always surrounded by these subtle displays of arching color, but our eyes cannot see them in the greater brightness of the sun and moon.

Continue reading

Winter’s Jewels Haiku

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golden pine droplets

fairy cobblers harvest

resin slippers shine

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Cabbage-Iris Haiku

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summer blooms faded

vivid winter iris glows

some consolation

 

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

‘Tis the Season Haībun

There’s nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.
— Erma Bombeck

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When I was a child, I hated suspense, and all my energy went into solving mysteries quickly. I generally figured out who did what where in the game Clue, where the flag was in Stratego and what I was getting for Christmas. Continue reading

New Day Haiku

The weirdest thing, I published this today, December 18, and the post vanished into the past — December 12! I’m reblogging it for those who’ve bookmarked me and don’t look at their reader, so the entry will be on top. How bizarre! Has this happened to anyone else? Warmly, Brenda

Brenda Davis Harsham's avatarFriendly Fairy Tales

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fresh new snow falling
path through a magic portal
leave the past behind

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

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Seasons Intersect Haiku

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buds waiting for spring

reluctant leaves enduring

 dreaming of summer

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Dark Spaces Haiku

Snow on Branches

golden sunshine glows

fae hide in the dark spaces

writing to Santa

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Tree of Life Haībun

Used with permission of Managua Gunn

Used with permission of Managua Gunn

I dream here in this place of ancient magic, listening to the humming telephone wires. Oil wells beat like a thousand hearts. My roots stretch beneath the hill, into the frozen past. The dry desert sands cannot warm the hidden place where the Garden of Eden still flourishes, hidden from man these many thousand years. I was blown to this hill as a seed, more than 400 years ago.

mother lost in time
father wind threw me from her
alone in this place

A child fell, cutting his knee on a pottery shard. His blood watered the sand, pushing me into the soil. In his brief pain, he called to Enki, the Water God, who granted a year of beating rain. Was I blessed by Enki to outlive my kin or cursed to burn in the sun, gaped at by tourists?

Shajarat-al-Hayat
symbol of forgotten time
outliving all loves

 Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by the weekly Haībun challenge.
References:
http://www.worldtoptop.com/mysterious-tree-of-life-bahrain/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tree_of_Life,_Bahrain
http://www.bahrain.com/en/vp/things-to-do/top-ten-sights/Pages/Tree-of-Life.aspx#.UqvbGyihDzI

Winter Queen Haiku

Yew Sparkles in Snow

blue topaz shadows
yew queen crowned in ice crystals
sparkling with diamonds

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham