Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Haiku for a cold winter's morning

This winter Sunday,
Hard rain gives way to soft sun,
A steamy homage

Sunlight inter sects,
Curling strands of translucent clouds
Like wispy garments

Voice of rain demands
That we attend to her commands,
Falling cold on steel.

Silence breaks out
Of cold insistent embrace
This prison cell

As she now steps out,
Dripping from the eaves of my house
Magpies find their voice.

There is a silence
Beyond the deepest silence
A true homecoming

Sunlight's pale touch
Wipes gently away the chill
That pervades soul.

Weekend weariness,
Driving through the wet from church
Eucharistic faith

Drinking hot coffee,
Gazing through my damp window
Deep silence within.

Tomorrow I face,
A meeting that may well shape
a season of grace.

Sunlight or cold damp,
The inner fire of holy faith
A Heracletian flame

Time to drop down deep
Into the silent still pool
The silence of being. 

The discipline of haiku,
Written on the hasty run
No perfection here.

Thinking of family,
All far away from my aloneness
This morning's prayer.

Steamy mist rises
Like smoke from fragrant incense,
Bowing to the sun.

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