Monday, 26 April 2010

2010-04-29 haiku


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silver bell tinkling
from thin veil of mists,
the mists opening

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invisible door
stands wide for those who believe
promises of joy

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reality
it's all an illusion
nothing is real

***

tangible
unreality
possible

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the child cried
the walls dissolved
she returned

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round circle of stones
she went barefoot on hard ground
amazing feeling

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you become
what you feel and
what you see

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curiously
existence independent
of everything

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fading so swiftly
cottage by the lake
gateway between worlds




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cottage by the lake
whispering his name
the door is open

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within the painting
conspiracy of silence
forever within

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locked out of my heart
a long time ago
searching for the key

**

within the painting
the secret clues were hidden
waiting to be found

***

mesh of greenery
oak, ash, rowan, and ivy
a face staring out

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hidden he watches
as the earth changes
watching and waiting

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lying there
I'm hovering above
watching me

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she felt it keenly
as the nothing slipped away
returning to source

***
unreachable
floating in place beyond time
untouchable

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floating in the void
closed her heavy eyes and watched
time flow in silence

***

feelings
evolving
within

***

unexpectedly
from the shores of hidden life
emerging a change

***

ancient church now gone
site of many memories
a piece of old stone

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old unmarked gravestone
conspiracy of silence
together always

***


whispering wind
rustling through the trees
dry leaves falling

***

moonlight
stars and tears
falling

***





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radiance
she keeps her light
and her dream

***

stars shining brightly
their crystal tears falling down;
piercing ice cold shards

***

dawn is breaking
chased moon and stars away
everything still

***

the watcher watches
no one is alone
there is no freedom

***



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little bit by bit
the way comes very slowly
you do not see it

***

deep blue purple
magenta circle
a ring of green

***

once upon a time
seeing it for the first time
the morning comes round

***

not ahead
nor behind
but within

***

it's imperfection
that makes perfection
personality

***

you become
what you feel and
what you see

***

a scrap of paper
tossed by dusty winds
ever restless heart

***

a thin orange line
on the distant horizon
dawn opens her eye

***

sunset sky
crimson and gold
fades to blue

***

very old paintbox
of half-pan watercolours
the colours intense

***





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