Autumn Contemplation

Autumn Contemplation
“The upper reaches here and the lower of the river – the friend for the moon.” Matsuo Basho

Meigetsu,
the harvest moon is fading –
Bright gold coin in black sky
now dims and wanes to a partial dish of cream.
Hatsu arashi – the first storm of autumn
has washed clean the sky.
aki simu – autumn is clearing,
brilliant blue,
luminous white clouds drifting, silent. peaceful.
Autumn’s voice whispers –
breeze across dry leaves on the grass,
wind in the reeds at the creek,
The little priest – the tiny cicada delicately
moves his wings, a small voice
among the raucous pine and bell crickets,
an alto to the larger cicadas
and their metallic thrum.
Shinryoo – new coolness in the air.
The coming of autumn is somnolent today.
No rise or fall,
A steady tone of almost silence.
The morning glory twines
lovingly around my plum tree
and shows her blue face,
echoing her sister,
aki no sora – the autumn sky.
The small grey tabby across the way
sits beneath an oak
watching the occasional
slow falling leaf.
Her eyes stay upward
and she does not move for she wants to see
the leaves as they float and fall around her.
An early leaf burning –
smoke wanders and its incense drifts to heaven.
my wondering heart sit entranced
in the midst of the haiku
I wish I could write.

Haibun: The Last Holdout

For Imelda (guest prompting at dVerse) prompt of waiting at dVerse Haibun Monday. A haibun is a short prosimetric Japanese form. I am following my new style of writing haibun in the abbreviated style of the original haibun created by Basho, 44 – 100 words. Remember: A haibun is an accounting of a true incident that happened to you. It is not poetry separated by “haiku”. the haiku must be seasonal and nature related to be a haiku.  A haibun is also not flash fiction. This will also be posted on Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

Haibun: The Last Holdout
Almost the end of November. The weather varies between warm and cold, dry and wet. Some leaves still cling to the trees waiting for the word from Nature to let go and fall, drifting slowly to the earth. Every day I walk by and count fewer leaves than the day before.
the black oak
still warming the cold sky –
last to lose its leaves

copyright kanzensakura

 U7

Haibun: aki fukashi

For Toads Tuesday Platform.

秋深し (あきふかし Autumn Deepens
Meigetsu: the harvest moon is fading. Bright gold coin in the black sky dims and wanes to a partial dish of cream. Hatsu grashi – the first storm of autumn has washed the sky clean. Aki simu – autumn is clearing – a brilliant blue sky with luminous white clouds drifting, silent, peace. Aki no koe – the voice of autumn whispers – a breeze across dry leaves on the grass, wind in the reeds at the creek, the little priest cricket delicately moves his legs, a small voice among the pine and bell crickets, alto to the larger cicada and their metallic thrum.

Shinryoo – a new coolness in the air. The coming of autumn is somnolent today – no rise or fall, a steady tone of almost silence. Morning glory twines lovingly around my plum tree and shows her blue face reflecting her sister the brilliant autumn sky – aki no sora. The small grey tabby across the way sits beneath an oak tree watching the occasional slow falling leaf. Her mad eyes stay upward and she does not move for she wants to see the leaves as they float and fall around her. An early leaf burning: smoke wanders and its incense drifts to heaven. I sit entranced in the midst of the haiku I wish I could write.
voice of cicadas
silent now in the stand of
pine trees on the hill.

tani bucho 1817

The Season of Fireflies is Past

For Reat Toads Tuesday Platform.

The Season of Fireflies is Past
“There is no Final Resting Place of the Mind.” Anthony Bourdain

The season of fireflies is past.
the shade from trees is getting longer –
days are becoming shorter –
nights are growing cooler.
It is so silent
The sound of a train whistle
several miles away carries
faintly over the tops of trees –
it moves like a slow river and pools
on the black grass of my back yard.
I’ve seen one firefly here at the end.
It winked at eye level
and a few minutes later it winked higher up
and still a few minutes later it winked
up in the top of the old oak.
The train whistle awakens the insects –
the cicadas and crickets –
it awakens the tree frogs who begin their
treble belching – and the old bullfrog
in my dying garden sings
basso profundo – the cicadas
ratchet it up a little bit louder.
I can feel it in my soul and in my bones –
Summer is taking her shower and soon will
be in her jammies and sleeping.
autumn will awaken and begin his
royal progress throughout the land
trailing clear blue skies, deer, and golden leaves
in his wake.
The season of fireflies is past.

Fall Knocks Slowly

For Real Toads Tuesday Platform

Fall Knocks Slowly
Fall knocks slowly at summer’s door:
an old friend with shyness at returning and
maybe told to leave.
Leaves turn yellow and
slowly drop on green grass and
turn brown to be swept away
by chill winds.
Breezes once warm start
to be chill at evening
and daylight’s gold luster fades
to early evening.
Evening comes too soon for those of us who love the
sweet warm days and azure skies
but summer opens the door to fall and
the visitor glides in and
settles down to stay until
winter bids it go.
In the cold winter
might stars seem to burn brighter –
heaven’s nightlights to keep us safe
while we sleep and dream of spring.

copyright kanzensakura

Haiku 10062018

For Poets United Poetry Pantry and for Real Toads Tuesday Platform

Haiku: 100062018
sleepy woodland pool –
leaves drift on surface dreaming
of past summer sun

copyright Kanzen Sakura

Kogane no aki ga hajimarimasu

As I do not do rhymes, I have elected to do a free form sonnet.  Yes there is such a thing and many lovely ones have been written.  A free form sonnet is 14 lines long.  That is it.  This is for Kim’s rainbow of sonnets over at Real Toads. I have used the colors golden, black, blue, white, cream, and gold in my sonnet.  The Japanese title means:  Golden Autumn Begins.  Also posted on Posts United Poetry Pantry.

*Kogane no aki ga hajimarimasu
The golden voice of autumn whispers –
a breeze across the dry leaves,
A wind in the reeds at the creek.
The little black priest cricket delicately moves his legs,
a small voice among the pine and bell crickets,
alto to the larger cicada and their metallic thrum.
A new coolness in the air, the coming of autumn is somnolent today,
No rise or fall, a steady tone of almost silence.
The first storm of autumn has washed the sky clean.
Autumn is clearing – the sky is brilliant blue
With luminous white clouds drifting and peaceful.
The harvest moon is fading, bright gold coin in the black sky
dims and wanes to a partial dish of cream.
An early leaf burning, its incense wanders and drifts to heaven.

 

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