clouds hang... fixed in pond reflections, or has my mind slowed?
Topsy Turvy World [Haiku]
3
Of all the masters & all the slaves,
I find that mind fire burns in waves.
And sometimes the emotions derail
too quickly to lengthen the exhale.
Trees falling in the forest, unheard,
can still crush a nest of baby birds.
Turns out it's not the sound that matters,
but what the destruction leaves in tatters.
The phrase “Queen of Slaves” comes from a Percy Bysshe Shelley poem (Canto 4, No. 24)

a slow rain starts,
playing jumbo leaves: nature’s
percussion section

city streets
under vaulted dome:
ribbed by rain tree.
I ran into a seeker from far lands,
and asked him what he sought in my hometown.
He said he sought what's true and beautiful.
I asked him if it was here, more than his home?
"Sometimes you have to walk a thousand miles
to find that which resides beneath your nose.
To unlock truth, the tumblers must align
from the shake of experience and time."

Bougainvilleas,
densely blossomed,
nonplussed by rain clouds.

the liquid world
merges with the earth,
and both are one.