I love the smooth way this poem reads with the alliteration at the start and the soft “s” sounds that carry the rest of the poem from stop to sprinkle and ending in ashes. Beautiful haiku
Always a relevant thought, Jason. Am a big fan of hope, but sometimes in the battle--it lulls. A form of surrender, of trust, of prayer, when you've done what you can do, and it's in larger hands. Thanks for keeping it real, Jas!
Thanks, Jason. As I help my sister care for my BIL in his last few days here on earth, hope has faded, and what’s left is an acceptance as profound as any other emotion. I always knew my BIL was a good man, but I didn’t realize how many lives he affected with his kindness. People have come from as far away as British Columbia, Canada, to the U.S. East Coast, and more are coming from across Europe to say their goodbyes. We are really in the process of celebrating his extraordinary life.
Thank you for sharing this. I hope your BIL’s memory will be a blessing to all of you. What a beautiful thing to discover at the end of a life that a dear loved one was even more wonderful and beloved than previously known.
My youngest nephew died a couple of weeks ago and was buried in a natural burial ground. His brother sent photos and one was of his body, shrouded only in a bamboo shroud, lying on a rack of tree branched with a bouquet of flowers upon him. Visceral? Very.
When the younger generation passes before their time, their loss is so much more devastating. I hope everyone that loves your nephew can find some peace in the months ahead.
He was a quadriplegic for 37 years. He amazed us all with his spiritual stamina, but, as his brother said, his body no longer wanted to participate, he decided to unplug and let it go. He died within an hour. It is with as much relief as grief to say goodbye to one who has endured so much even in a short lifespan. He spent it well however and didn't waste it being bitter.
Thanks Stella! I love your haiku! The tragedy of losing some feels as cataclysmic as a volcanic eruption. I especially enjoy your line, your wall hold firm.
crows cawing nearby
as I walk the path back home
Mama is dying
Beautiful. This feels very cinematic Alan
i see my father
in his blinding afterlife
through a glass brightly
I love that last line. So much resonance there. Wonderful poem!
thank you
Thank you for revisiting this -- definitely worthy of repeated consideration.
I walk the woodland
and stop at McDonald Creek
to sprinkle her ashes
I love the smooth way this poem reads with the alliteration at the start and the soft “s” sounds that carry the rest of the poem from stop to sprinkle and ending in ashes. Beautiful haiku
Thanks, Jason, for the sensitive reading, and the inspiration!
The fever lulls
a moments respite
'for the next battle.
That moment of respite, the lull of the fever really captures the drama of living life. I love this haiku
Thanks, my friend.
Always a relevant thought, Jason. Am a big fan of hope, but sometimes in the battle--it lulls. A form of surrender, of trust, of prayer, when you've done what you can do, and it's in larger hands. Thanks for keeping it real, Jas!
Thanks, Jason. As I help my sister care for my BIL in his last few days here on earth, hope has faded, and what’s left is an acceptance as profound as any other emotion. I always knew my BIL was a good man, but I didn’t realize how many lives he affected with his kindness. People have come from as far away as British Columbia, Canada, to the U.S. East Coast, and more are coming from across Europe to say their goodbyes. We are really in the process of celebrating his extraordinary life.
Thank you for sharing this. I hope your BIL’s memory will be a blessing to all of you. What a beautiful thing to discover at the end of a life that a dear loved one was even more wonderful and beloved than previously known.
his shrouded body
naked upon the grave's rack
stirs my mother's heart
Wow, I love how visceral this poem
Is
My youngest nephew died a couple of weeks ago and was buried in a natural burial ground. His brother sent photos and one was of his body, shrouded only in a bamboo shroud, lying on a rack of tree branched with a bouquet of flowers upon him. Visceral? Very.
When the younger generation passes before their time, their loss is so much more devastating. I hope everyone that loves your nephew can find some peace in the months ahead.
He was a quadriplegic for 37 years. He amazed us all with his spiritual stamina, but, as his brother said, his body no longer wanted to participate, he decided to unplug and let it go. He died within an hour. It is with as much relief as grief to say goodbye to one who has endured so much even in a short lifespan. He spent it well however and didn't waste it being bitter.
indentations where
you slept resist reshaping
nothing can fill them
This is a great poem. So grounded in detail
Cat-mom sister mine
yours are both old lions now
still seeking your scent.
I love this poem!
both the throbbing ache
and the hope of what remains:
transcendent beauty
I feel that throbbing ache and have occasionally glimpsed bits of the the transcendent beauty beyond. Wonderful poem
hate red hot
grief swiped left
for another day
thank you for this prompt. 🤍 in writing this I realized that i was carrying a lot of grief from hate crimes in the news.
Thank you for sharing your haiku! It’s odd how we can carry grief from so many things and not realize it
Beautiful, Jason. We share the same sentiment on grief and the balm that is art. Ethan Hawke said in a video “art is sustenance.” And, here’s a haiku:
Fire rages, mud flows
From the mountains to the ocean
Your wall holds firm.
Thanks Stella! I love your haiku! The tragedy of losing some feels as cataclysmic as a volcanic eruption. I especially enjoy your line, your wall hold firm.