shoo-rah shoo-rah didn’t see it coming
apple light in three o’clock sun
Grasses are high
stir it up little darlin’ stir it up
late spring buds now open faces
We’ll soon be gone
take off your shoes and dance we’re barefootin
sunbeam shimmers of yesterday.
∼ ∼ ∼
From my drive home, song references are Shoo-rah, Shoo-rah sung by Betty Wright; Stir it up performed by Johnny Nash; and Barefootin sung by Robert Parker.
When terror strikes
we mourn in gales of sorrow,
praise those forever lost.
When torrents subside,
let us sit down and talk.
How can we know the signs,
show more caring?
Storms of carnage call for compassion,
All arrogance must be tamed.
With ‘storm’ as this week’s dVerse Quadrille prompt, it was hard not to think of the recent tragic events in London. I found myself surfing the web to find information about education and support programs designed to prevent radicalization leading to violence. What I had heard on the radio seemed to be confirmed—there are few large scale initiatives…actions being taken seem to be low profile (or reported in languages other than English). Here are three links that I found interesting:
script in precious tomes,
read and unread
inform a room.
in a briefcase tucked,
on a mirror edge,
enter jet stream
A recent post of Carpe Diem Haiku Kai about Tibetan prayer flags got me thinking about the power of written word. The flags are small squares of cloth printed with words of wisdom, prayers, mantras, and spiritual images.
The idea behind these [prayer] flags is that with every move they make (through the wind) a little bit of the strength, the power of the prayer, is becoming free. If the wind moves them, then the air is cleansed and the intention of the prayer is spread into the world.
For years raven evaded
those who would tag her. She wanted
to be known by her essence,
not stats, status and pedigree.
Dodging cages, oft she flew solo seen only by few.
Windsong a companion,
gentle sundance among grey clouds,
rain may come the weather says.
Balmy moments, treasured gifts,
a blessing for sowing seeds,
funneling passion, shaping time.
Linked with dVerse Open Link Night June 1, 2017.
In a wild grove all is tangled until a pink rose bloom
sweetens green, draws us up into one fresh moment of clarity.
A window opens then petals scatter, fall onto matted brown.
Written with reference to guidelines for a Sijo, a Korean poetic form.
By country roads they’re spraying herbicide
Let’s chop and mow and raise our ‘No Spray’ signs
Let’s say no to poison — send those trucks away.
Now is the time to plant new seed
not to cull in the name of noxious weeds
Roadside trims are still enough.
A gardener’s work is never done
We toil from dawn to setting sun.
Only when hungry bugs bite and prowl
do we surrender, throw down our trowels.
I was working outside all day, both in the vegetable garden and in the yard mowing and putting up NO SPRAY signs, leaving little time to write. I thought I would write a haiku but ended up with this.