half of the petals
are open, but the rest,
have yet to bloom
Copyright 2019 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
half of the petals
are open, but the rest,
have yet to bloom
Copyright 2019 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
a walk at noon
rare break from my desk,
light steps
Copyright 2019 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
unfurling bravely
raising face toward the sun,
before the rain
Copyright 2019 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
the sun shines
after days of rain, flowers
the spring wizard
Copyright 2019 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
the forest’s green heart
taps an icy morse code,
calling the sun
Copyright 2018 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
Thanks to Tabatha Yeatts, who channeled winter and the White Witch in her summer postcard swap. She sent me a poetic mashup of fairy tale, Narnia and politics. Continue reading
Light pools, spills and
gathers in the in-between,
the place of magic bugs,
between water and air,
where all things appear
possible.
I linger half-blinded
by the sundrops
wishing for the moment
to be suspended
between the now and then
for time to stop
and my life to dissolve
there and stay forever,
brilliantly lit and possible.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: In this last week before school starts, I have been getting medical opinions on a shoulder injury and getting my car rehauled. It’s an in-between time for me and my kids, which is always magical but fraught with emotion. I hope you have a great weekend! Warmly, Brenda
To the drooling snow monster,
who swallowed my thoughts of spring whole,
the sun will be coming for you,
in a month or two.
A few budding artists were inspired to draw their own snow monsters:
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Thanks to Janna at Complexity through Joy for the kind permission for use of her snow monster.
The church is near but the road is all ice; the tavern is far but I’ll walk very carefully. Russian Proverb
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.
When the summer sun shines, blinding me with its full radiance, the pleasure is painfully exquisite. If I bask too long, my sunburn is a long, slow torment, my body retaining the summer’s heat for days. Yet that same hot summer sun provides the energy for all the food we eat, makes the world a vibrant beautiful place.
hot reckless summer
sun provides food for tree leaves
blessed saving shade
In the autumn, the sun’s strength has diminished, and its power to blind and burn has faded with the earth’s turning. The leaves mourn with me, turning all the colors of the earth from the loss of that unrelenting brilliance. A cool morning is made a delight, sitting by the lake, soaking up the remaining heat, with no fear of sunburn.
a bench in the sun
light glints on still lake water
sun warms cold morning
Fall warmth has to last through the dark days of winter, when the sky can turn gray with snow for days in a row. The weak winter sun cannot burn through snow clouds, and instead sends a diffuse light leaking through. After the clouds break, the fresh fallen snow can magnify the sunlight into a thousand knives, piercing my eyes with a painful overload. Crossing a field after a snowfall, the light forces my eyes to thin slits, tears seeping and freezing on my cheeks.
boots sink in new snow
icy wind curls under scarf
eyes shut from white fire
Spring finds moderation again, without the piercing light reflected by the winter white, without the intense burning of the summer sun. The whole world bursts forth in bloom, bulbs shooting forth their starbursts of color and myself shedding clothing layers. Spring sunlight is an invitation, a benediction, a renewing from the universe.
starshine gently falls
magic balm to the cold earth
life springs up dancing
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This post was inspired by the Ligo Haībun challenge by Ese, who offered a Mexican proverb: It is not enough to know how to ride – you must also know how to fall. This proverb reminded me of autumn, the leaves falling after a summer of riding the sunshine; life in its eternal circle; the earth circling; the sun in its seasons.
At the suggestion of my friend Jules Paige, I am dipping a toe in the still waters of the haibun, an art form embodied by prose followed by a haiku. The prompt is by Ligo Haibun, and with a choice of two pictures, I chose call2read‘s, and here goes:
Bloom of Life
And so my life unfolded, petal by petal, each memory as silky as a dewy rose petal brushed against my cheek. Shivers of dreams, slivers of thorns, sparkle of moon and stars. As a child, just a bud protected by my thick green casing, I did not always understand adult things. I dreamt of traveling the world, finding friends, eating new foods, learning every day new things. Slowly, my green shield loosened and opened. The days seemed infinite, opening petal by petal. I traveled, I made friends, and I learned every day. Now the rose of my life is fully open to the sun, and summer’s heat has made my soul expand in all directions, drinking in light, energy and warmth from friends, places and memories.
Spark of life sustains,
Creativity expands
Peace, love, joy with friends.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham