Haiku Haiku

haiku moment —

most pure

before words form

 

swallowing cherry blossoms…

will I compose haiku

with a japanese heart?

 

loon skimming still lake

above its own image —  

wordless poem

 

soul of the poet

soul of the Friend

rice paper waiting for the brush

[note: Friend is the formal term for a Quaker]


a canoe

a haiku

each floating on reflection

 

 

Spirit Haiku

 

journeying through

the heart of god —

our paddles silently dip and swing

 

climbing the mountain trail        

I hear echoes

of footsteps not yet taken

 

I see machu picchu … and

the stones turn to blood

and rush through my veins

 

fog steals up from behind

startles me

then holds me in its arms

 

her heart soars like a midnight loon…

calling, calling

each quivering soul

 

swirling along the winding path    

leaves and breezes . . .

yet    where to?   where from?

 

stones of the old monk’s floor,

worn smooth but never cold —

his feet afire…

 

Chuck and Giant Sequoia, Fall 2016

Charles David Kleymeyer graduated from Stanford University in Creative Writing, earned a doctorate in Sociology of International Development at the University of Wisconsin, worked in grassroots development in the Andes for 45 years, and is now a Senior Fellow at the Center for the Support of Native Lands. He is a Quaker pacifist, environmentalist, fiction/non-fiction writer, and performing storyteller. Kleymeyer has published five books, plus several dozen short stories and articles, and an award-winning historical spirit-quest novel about the New Testament saga (www.YeshuNovel.net). He lives in Arlington, Virginia, with his wife and daughter and has two adult offspring, as well. He has been writing haiku and exploring Buddhism for more than five decades.

Image by BrieCollette – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51132152

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