Silver roundtrip – haibun for Carpe Diem and dVerse

Today, once again I try to combine different prompts. Carpe Diem has both haibun and awake, and at dVerse Karin wants us to write about a trip.

The polished aluminium reflected the first rays from the rising sun, a sleek silver bird destined to carry me far away. I had slept bad and awakened in a state partially in dreams were my anxiety mingled with anticipation of a future unknown. What I left behind was just sorrow and darkness, and the air-plane was a sight much more beautiful, than anything I’d ever seen before.

leaving my past
awaken in anticipation
of rising sun

Many years looking back, I still recall those days of hope and resolution, when I had yet not faced the immigration officers and I had never before been treated as a liar The part of me I wanted to forget, has been growing inside as I walk the dirty streets of my city jungle.

smell of sunshine
replaced by garbage fumes
awake in cardboard box

To conclude my trip I feel a renewed anticipation, once again a silver bird, in the sleet of a winter it now appears so much more beautiful than the images I still recall of a rising sun reflected on polished metal. My trip is over, I’m going home again

disappointments die
my future’s clear again for me
awake at home

April 27, 2013

72 responses to “Silver roundtrip – haibun for Carpe Diem and dVerse

  1. sometimes we have to leave everything to find where we really belong…key verse for me here was..The part of me I wanted to forget, has been growing inside… fine write sir..

  2. I like the idea of leaving one’s past and awakening anticipating the rising sun. (And I like your use of the haibun form!)

  3. it has to feel so good to finally get home…and bet you could tell some interesting stories…from the agents questioning you and feelings…to waking up in that cardboard box…that is a step…wow…nicely done…the city itself can be quite discombobulating…

  4. I like the excitement of the departure and coming back home ~ The city jungle can be rough and tough ~ Cheers to your haibun ~

  5. Well done. These stories of expectation and heartbreak very poignant. I am thinking of a novel – I think the God of Small Things? But you tell your version wonderfully well. k.

  6. There is a lot to this: coming to grips with disappointment and turning it into appreciation of the old.
    And I really like the haibun effect.

  7. Firstly I do love haibun, and you’ve written a fabulous one… it’s so hard making changes but I’m glad you found a future clear at home… a lovely closing to any journey!

  8. I love the combination of forms, Bjorn. The embedded haiku takes on a dreamlike quality, and the photo creates an effective haibun hiatus (!) in the fiction. Wonderfully woven.

  9. I loved it, especially how you brought out the sense of smell in
    “smell of sunshine
    replaced by garbage fumes
    awake in cardboard box”
    (I slept with the door open for the first night this year, and I woke up to the city’s many scents… So your words fit well in my day.)

  10. I love your haibun combined with the haiku, or does haibun actually mean the story accompanied with the haiku. I had looked it up but this busy weekend has left me unsure of what I have read. lol. I loved the imagery. Your words let the reader know the hope, despair and hope again that was experienced along with the trial and inner struggle. I have often counseled my children and grands on the fact that we cannot escape our problems as we take them with us so may as well resolve our issues before we venture out from home. Your story told is so beautifully.

  11. I find this very refreshing in its juxtaposition of dream and real world images. The notion of taking off and flying to New destinations seems to merge with a dream about the final destination. Those juxtapositions lend an air of mystery that I find very appealing.

  12. You are writing in excellent form these days; and I think the phrase I’m looking for is “the destination is the journey”??? Does that fit? I hear you, then.

  13. Beautiful way of balancing through emotions and letting us walk along, feeling them to the very depth. Disappointments die indeed, even when memories are still alive.

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