From a Victorian Inn
Moonless it may be, but this midnight hour from my Victorian window shimmers and shines with the vibrance of an apparition as Christmas still sways from porch and pine. Paislied curtain pulled aside, I see pomp & circumstance have been stripped from hydrangeas, find I’m charmed by their skeletal remains bobbing and dancing upon January’s brisk breeze. They will bloom again, as will I, glorious spring will surge through roots and veins with the circle of life, yet this moment solitude is the canary released from its cage, wraps me with wonder as I stand alone, tenderly tuck last year away and turn towards the new.
My hands plant the seeds
that darkness will envelope
but never contain.
By Margaret Bednar, January 7, 2020
This is linked with “Poets and Storytellers United - Pantry #1”
“dVerse Haibun Monday”- ponder new beginnings, and “Skylover Word List” - I used 7 of 10 words listed
Moonless it may be, but this midnight hour from my Victorian window shimmers and shines with the vibrance of an apparition as Christmas still sways from porch and pine. Paislied curtain pulled aside, I see pomp & circumstance have been stripped from hydrangeas, find I’m charmed by their skeletal remains bobbing and dancing upon January’s brisk breeze. They will bloom again, as will I, glorious spring will surge through roots and veins with the circle of life, yet this moment solitude is the canary released from its cage, wraps me with wonder as I stand alone, tenderly tuck last year away and turn towards the new.
My hands plant the seeds
that darkness will envelope
but never contain.
By Margaret Bednar, January 7, 2020
This is linked with “Poets and Storytellers United - Pantry #1”
“dVerse Haibun Monday”- ponder new beginnings, and “Skylover Word List” - I used 7 of 10 words listed
This is a very introspective description at the turning of the year, Margaret.
ReplyDeleteThank you for including words from my Skylover Wordlist. You made great use of them!
Margaret, it is lovely to read this in the midst of dark global news. The coming of spring is an annual miracle. Mother Earth, moving through her cycles, in spite of how poorly we have tended her. In our gardens, at least, we are kind to her.
ReplyDeletesuch a reflective poem, Margaret. the haiku is beautiful
ReplyDeleteI love the image of ‘pomp & circumstance …stripped from hydrangeas’ – I can see the skeletal remains of our one hydrangea from my study window.
ReplyDeleteVary placid & very calming overall, closing with an extremely positive haiku. This is what all Haibun aspire to and ideally should be. Well done.
ReplyDeleteI love your haiku. Perfect.
ReplyDeleteThank God for spring, porches and pine,.
I love how in your poem--and in life, if we truly look--the darkness works to frame the light. Not to trap it, but to show just how lovely it is. The haiku is a delight.
ReplyDeleteI love your words Margaret and the joy therein.
ReplyDeleteLovely!
Anna :o]
Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThis is a wonderful haibun... the turn of the year provides a beginning from the decay of the bloom.
ReplyDeleteYou create lovely images and a lovely mood.
ReplyDeleteI can't wait for that glorious spring. Happy new year Margaret. Hope all is well.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous Margaret! Love the 'skeletal remains of hydrangeas.'
ReplyDeleteA lovely haibun that gentle folds the previous year as it turns towards the new. I really like the calm assurance through out your piece, and especially of hydrangeas blooming again in spring.
ReplyDelete