shoorah shoorah

Fluorescent green

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.

image©2017 Ontheland

prevention

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,

prevent seduction,

show more caring?

Storms of carnage call for compassion,

All arrogance must be tamed.

©2017 Ontheland

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:

 

w o r d

Framed symbols,
script in precious tomes,
read and unread
inform a room.

Personal notes
in a briefcase tucked,
on a mirror edge,
manage sanity.

Wisdom flags,
fervent prayers
enter jet stream
restore equilibrium.

©2017 Ontheland

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.

Chèvrefeuille

 

Gardener’s rant

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.

©2017 Ontheland