Sun heralds thunder
in the heart of beating plain:
her hand on my chest.
Rooted earth peeling
at the crossroads leaves colored,
the sounds children left.
The Waking Den
A Home to Creativity.
Sun heralds thunder
in the heart of beating plain:
her hand on my chest.
Rooted earth peeling
at the crossroads leaves colored,
the sounds children left.
The Waking Den 
Marvelous
Sometimes, a handful of words can say more than a thousand. 🙂
I entirely, wholeheartedly agree.
at the crossroads leaves colored,
the sounds children left…. what a beautiful image….
great last lines in these chris,
makes for some sharp turns
and emotional points.
As some of the best of that Japanese short-form should. Bear the world, and drive it home…
Can I detect a wink at Robert Frost in that second haiku ? great poetry…
a-z of love
Oh my. If there was, it was wholly unintentional–I haven’t even read Frost in years. Regardless, that’s quite the comparison, sir! Thank you.
bitter sweet here… much power in the lines
The human element closing each haiku is spotlighted beautifully by Mother Nature’s opening stage.
As they say: all the world’s a stage, is it not? It is only right that any human element should come into its being immersed in worldly discussion.
Oh this is SO beautiful. ❤
And you, madame, are far too kind. Thank you!
So much captured in these lines, they breathe with life.
The world is already vibrant with poetry. Sometimes, the right words just happen to tumble off our tongues.
Sweet! Packs a powerful punch. Like the fact you kept it short and tight. Everything we need to know in so few words and hardly no lines. Love this write. It speaks to me.
A challenge to render, a beauty to see done, and a pleasure to hear it struck its notes well.
Writing the message of a whole book, in the few musically beated words–
I like these Haikus
and so sending thanks to you.
How I learn to live.
I see what you did there, and I like it. Kudos, Steve; you sound like you just have it in your for a haiku duel one of these days, eh?
the small things in life…sometimes… are grand. beautiful.
This is sweet. It has a sense of contented fulfillment that most of your work hasn’t had before. I’m glad to see it.
I must confess: it’s equally unusual for me, and something to which I’m still growing accustomed, to have an aspect of life in which I am actually, earnestly content.
The love of friends like you has certainly had its part in the uphill battle, Ms. Kila. 🙂
😀 SHHHHH. I don’t go by Kila here!!!
Very well, Keats-a-saurus-rex. 😉
I AM the Lizard Poet King. 😀
All hail the king! We need to unite our poetic selves again in revelry sometime soon, by the by.
yeah. we did some good work.