Life Seasons–dVerse Monday Haibun

Photo: Pixabay
Labeled for non-commercial reuse

Life’s Seasons
a Haibun

Lately, I’m almost afraid to answer the phone when Aunt Joyce, the matriarch of our family, calls. I love this elderly, alert, wise woman who has outlasted her generation, and seems to be the glue that holds much of our vast family together. But recently the calls have been peppered with sadness—stage IV cancer, death and more death. These are members of my generation that she reports on. Brings it home, it does, as I’m the oldest of the bunch.

Outside my “treehouse” office, I spotted a large, artfully woven nest a couple of weeks ago. It remained empty until Saturday when I spied papa bird standing on its rim. He ruffled his feathers, puffed out his red breast, then sidled up to mama, snuggling for a few moments, remaining as she flew off for her break. Twelve to fourteen days, my Google Assistant tells me. Will I get to witness birth?

full-throated robin
sings summer joy lustily
I prune dead roses

Dusk–dVerse Haibun Monday


Photo: Victoria Slotto


Desert evenings have a beauty all their own. Most every day we enjoy a sunset that stuns us with its wonder. Hummingbirds vie for their place at our feeders, mama and daddy lead their ducklings for an evening swim as twilight colors dance on the water’s ripples. It is still warm, but cool enough to sit out on the patio and soak in beauty, sip a glass of wine and give thanks for the blessings of another day of life.

Photo: David Slotto

Have you noticed the beauty of an aged person’s evening hours? Fine lines, wrinkles tell stories of both joy and sorrow. Of life. Crevassed lips that have loved, whispered, cursed, blessed, sinned, asked forgiveness and forgiven turn up in smiles, down in sadness—likely both, at one time or another. But most often, it is in the eyes that you read the nuances of a life well-lived. There you will find clarity, serenity, wisdom and acceptance. Acceptance of loss, of failure, but especially of the realization that there has been love. May this be so for each of us.

hawk swoops in, alights
mama duck shelters her young
at dawn, three remain

This week I’m happy to host dVerse Monday Haibun. The Kigo is CHIJITSU, lingering day. Please join us with your Haibun of two or three terse paragraphs followed by a seasonal haiku.


The Good of the Poor

The Good of the Poor

About 1981 or 82, I sat in a cold church in Detroit, Michigan. I pulled my coat around me, barely noticing the cold, entranced, instead, by the strong voice of a diminutive woman clothed in just a white sari with blue edging. Fearlessly she proclaimed the need for more care for the poorest in our community, and she had the right to do so, as she was opening a shelter for the poorest in Detroit. Outside, winter winds howled. Within, I questioned how I could do more in my own mission of nursing the impoverished elderly.

After her talk, those of us who were engaged in such service were led to the basement for a reception. There, we had the opportunity to meet and greet Mother Teresa, one-by-one. The warmth of her words and her hug have remained with me, sometimes encouraging, sometimes chiding. I recall them now with deep gratitude.

Four tiny swallows
hound a lurking hawk—
winter desert sighs.

This week for dVerse Monday Haibun, Kim would like to have a take a look at handwriting of famous people. I have chosen that of Mother Teresa and am including a snippet of an analysis of her handwriting which fits my experience.

“Mother Teresa may have been diminutive in size, and shy of personality, but this sample shows that when she wanted something done, she found a way for it to be done. ”  To read the full article, follow the link HERE.

The pub opens Monday at 3:00 PM EST. Please join us!

Looney Moon-dVerse Haibun Monday, Fuyu No Tsuki, Winter Moon

Looney Moon
a Haibun

In the late 1960’s after several years of nursing, I went back to school for a Bachelor’s degree in nursing Education. Some of the classes I had to take, I had already been through as a student nurse. One of these was psychology.

The professor discussed ancient myths about human psychology. One point of discussion, dispelling a widely held belief, was the “reality” that the full moon has no influence on human behavior. The handful of nurses in the room looked at each other and we shook our heads. We had encountered a different perspective: labor and delivery rooms overflowing their capacity, emergency departments brimming with “crazies,” often accompanied by police officers, and inpatients with some degree of mental disturbance or dementia whose behavior decompensated even further.

Though the textbook and the “expert” saw things differently than we did and ignored our point-of-view, our experience seemed to us to be a more valid indicator.

Winter Moon won’t hide.
She highlights our nakedness,
bares our poor spirits.

  • Posted for my prompt at dVerse Haibun Monday: Fuyu No Tsuki–Winter Moon. I hope to see some of you there. I would enjoy hearing any experience you have had related to the effect of the full moon on human behavior. Nurses, Doctors and Law Enforcement have their own unique insights, I believe.

Now–dVerse Haibun Monday

Photo: David Slotto
Cedar Wax Wings

a Haibun

Yesterday, my husband and I had the opportunity to visit a homeless encampment/tent city to share some sandwiches we made from leftovers of our late celebration of Thanksgiving. On each face we had the privilege to see, I witnessed etchings of pain, left by the stylus of bad luck, or, perhaps, bad choices. It matters not.

There, I savored the beauty of true gratitude, not a blithe nod to an abundance of gifts—but in those eyes I saw a sadness that pointed to a life without much hope in the future.

My own plans are non-specific for the time being, due to a lack of personal time—for reasons outside my control. But what a blessing it is to live in the present moment, to find opportunity to love today, to sneak in a creative moment whenever life slows down to a crawl. What a blessing it is to accept the now with wide open arms.

they come by in waves
eat of our berries and fruit
migrating wax wings

On Monday, Kanzen Sakura invited us to post a haibun that dealt with our plans for dVerse Haibun Monday. While I have a plethora of ideas I would love to pursue, sometimes life puts a constraint on that. Toni (Kanzen Sakura) has told us of her new plans. I wish you well, my friend, and look forward to your continued sharing of poetry, if not prompts. Thank you for all you have taught us.

Impossible Dream

Impossible Dream
a Haibun

It was an almost-full moon that night, but in spite of the brightness, stars were visible in the western sky. Ocean breakers crashed on the shores of Newport Beach. Across the room my sister slept soundly, but from my bed by the window, I watched the night sky. Sleep evaded me, knowing that the next day we would be returning home where I would complete packing for a life journey that would take me to places unknown for the remainder of my life. The song, “Impossible Dream,” played over and over in my mind—a song that we had sung a mere three months earlier for High School graduation. I had no idea then how that dream would unfold in the years to come. I was so young.

moon draws ocean tides
breakers destroy sand castles
morning calm brings peace


Photo: Labeled for Non-commercial reuse

Labeled for Non-commercial reuse

Kanzen Sakura invites us to write today’s Monday Haibun for dVerse considering the night sky.  She asks for a single paragraph of non-fiction prose that is crowned by a Haiku, incorporating nature. Please join in.