The following haiku by Sogi is very inspiring:
the garden taken over –
To me there is a clear narrative here, so I will try with a haibun.
Sometimes I think I can hear the voice of playing children; laughter warming the darkening air and the smell of cooking calling for a dinner that will interrupt their play. I imagine music from a young woman; her song is not yet filled with melancholy and fading dreams. I think I can feel the warmth of summer soil under my bare feet. Pulling up the collar of my threadbare jacket I kick at burned timber and find an old toy-car that never will be mended, and never will be touched by children’s eager hands again. But paying tribute to what’s lost, I hang a bird feeder in the old elm tree, and leave this place forever.
a robin’s song
fills the empty garden –
Linked to Carpe Diem
December 8, 2014
I LOVE these both! I am not familiar with Sogi – someone about whom I must learn. I too love haibun.
Sogi is quite unknown – actually Kristjaan who host the Carpe Diem meme has written a little about him.
Beautiful and moving!
Poignant! It went right to my heart with nostalgia and a bit of melancholy.
I do believe a child is a bit like a butterfly. We fly from place to place in search…
This was poignant and worth building upon, Bjorn.
even a bird needs a sanctuary
the broken toy found is a bit sad…
but perhaps the feeder will bring new life…
Nice job! Love your ending haiku!
So beautifully crafted Bjorn. Made me thing of my lost toy dishes.
Your haibun allowed me to journey too…reminiscing along that park…I my grandson’s forgotten toy car and my mother’s bird feeder…lovely writing when it can bring you to places like this, thank you.
Bjorn, This was full of melancholy, but it was still lovely. — Suzanne
and if nobody refills the feeder, the birds will have to make do with the available seeds and berries.
I wonder what is buried under that raised bit in the middle.Is it near your home? Start digging – could be [viking] treasure 😉
A beautiful haibun – very tender and poignant. Farewells are often wracked and clamorous. But, in a perfect world – if a place will be missed – they should be soft and reverent, I think.