Haibun
Rhythm of
the Rain
The sound of
rain falling outside our window greeted me when I awoke. It
was just a light shower, but discouraging nonetheless. We
had come to the mountains to enjoy the fall colors, the cool
days, to take in the views, and to get away.
Our stay was at an inn that dates to 1906 and still
relishing in its turn-of-the-century charm. There is no
television, no phones, and no air conditioning. The wooden
floors creak, the pipes rattle, and the silence at night can
take getting used to.
So what now? Our plans for the day were all wet. Not much to
do except grab a jacket, a cup of hot tea, a good book,
settle into a rocker on the porch, and listen to the rhythm
of the rain. Actually, not such a bad morning after all.
down the
weary path
not always of their choosing
the drops of rain
Wind and
Sea
The old
life-saving station had guarded the coastline rescuing those
who failed to heed the warnings of the lights. Townspeople
would walk the beach scavenging the shoreline to supplement
their lives with pieces of shipwrecks scattered by wind and
sea.
Today the old life-saving station is a tourist attraction
and along the beach, there are sunbathers and surfers –
vacationers seeking the pleasures of wind and sea.
time to sit
a spell
in the beauty of the day
being old and wise
Flowers
The lily was the
first to die, as rose petals fell one by one. The greenery
turned to brown, as daisies bowed their heads. Birthday,
anniversary, or in sorrow – the occasion does not matter.
Thoughts of their sender will linger . . . long after the
flowers are gone.
the soft
glow of light
as nighttime begins to pass
steady and serene
