Spectacle {a haibun}

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[Photo by Ganeshrg, Wikimedia Commons]

When dragonflies swarm, people stop what they are doing and watch. They call their friends over. They take photos of themselves surrounded by a blur of wings.

This is what happened one day at work.

You couldn’t walk outside without bumping into them. For twenty minutes, all anyone could talk about with any passion was a gathering of dragonflies.

Even people who bolt outside every day with their mind on cellphones or cigarettes or any number of urgencies, even the distracted and the burdened, were compelled to observe.

I sat at my desk watching the dragonfly watchers. I had noticed the creatures days ago when there were only one or two. My desk has a window view.

No one paid them any attention back then, when they were so small in number.

Two dragonflies sew
the seams of clouds, moving slow
across my window

Intention

warm, muted light
a quiet evening
a chance to read
the words of poets,
the soft weight of a book
in my hand,
to feel with intention,
a time for order
and safety to roam
as if earth were a memory
and mind a home

{I never did get to read that evening.

I wrote this poem.

As soon as I typed it upĀ in WordPress, the app glitched.

I panicked.

Unfortunately, the rest of that beautiful evening in August was spent chatting with tech support.

And it turned out that all I needed to do was uninstall and reinstall the app.}

Patterns {a haibun}

There is uncertainty in the growth of living things. But there are also patterns.

All day the leaves were in motion. Now the pelting rain is here and they are still. Branches are crooked things, yet they are beautiful.

There are hints of perfection in the geometric shapes of cells and wings and flowers and fruit. And there is certainty in death and birth.

end of storm…
watching the rain get thinner
eating birthday cake