Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream
The forest always talks to me, some days in whispered sweetness: how our first kiss tasted, how your hand felt around my neck, or how your hair smelt when you let it shower my face after we made love. Some days the wind screams between the forests trunks, their limbs are your arms waving and the air is filled with tears. But worst of all is when the forest’s words are silent, I always said to you that silence talks, that when you shut the doors, my inside screamed, and I know you understood.
When I return from my forest walk the mail has been delivered, I can see how the dust from the departing mailman’s car slowly settles. Like smoke of letters burned, like nostalgia buried in my wood. The postcard you have sent must have been delivered. Pencil scribbled smiles and words telling me: tomorrow you’ll be back. It was just a big mistake. I almost run to read your words. But just like yesterday the box is empty. I hope tomorrow that the trees will be kind to me.
under inkwash skies —
where autumn leaves are falling
a lonely magpie
Today at dVerse it’s our second haibun Monday. We are given two quotes by Khalil Gibran to choose from, and I have used one of them. The other is: Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity. Hope you will join us. The prompt is open a complete week.
October 5, 2015