Around my wrist I have a gadget that calculates every step I take. The stairs I climb, the hills, every heartbeat and the way I run. It plots the time and where I’ve been. Yet it cannot give a reason for the clouds, for wind or why the birds are singing when I walk. There’s a light drizzle settlin as a thin film on my face and I listen to the gravel moaning under my feet. My nostrils fill with the last remains of composting leaves. My gadget calculates and tells me I have reached the goals today. Is that a reason to walk home, or should I blame the dusk that settles in my hair? Am I ruled by numbers, or should I celebrate that dark arrives a minute later now than yesterday?
clinging to the bough
pregnant with these winter clouds –
a tear of water
Today I host haibun Monday at dVerse. The subject is free, but I would like you to focus on letting haiku, prose and artwork complement each other rather than illustrate each other. The more dimension you can span with these three parts the better. Join us when we open at 9 PM CET.
February 5, 2017