Tag Archives: tree

Tree & Pond [Haibun]

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Beside a pond, a tree reaches, its branches stretched wide and skyward, blocking the harsh cloud-penetrating rays. Locals sit on the lush grass, their backsides wet, their backs resting on the rough and slanting trunk. They watch ripples echo outward from the mouth tips of feeding fish, those concentric rings etched into in the mirrored waters - and yet moving. In time, watchers will become ripple mesmerized, and will experience the stiff twitch and head nods of an impending nap.


sitting pondside,
ripples from feeding fish
lull my mind

DAILY PHOTO: Tree & Cascade, Jog Falls

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Taken on July 24, 2021 at Jog Falls

The Tree of Now [Haibun]

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One tree stands in the temple yard, slanting but stable, its bare limbs lazily spiral skyward. Its trunk is gnarled and its branches are twisted and it makes the old ruins around it look modern by comparison. The trunk radiates hardness, a strength from deformation, like the sinewy limbs of a laborer whose muscles are held in constant tension, until they can no longer know suppleness. Seekers of shade and enlightenment once sought its shadow, but now it can only offer a good example. 

leafless tree --
sitting in the temple yard,
luring Buddhas

Gravity-free Tree [Tanka]

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growing upward,
the tree turns ninety degrees,
reaching sideways
three times its height -
i jump to check gravity

DAILY PHOTO: Low Tide Tree

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Taken on Havelock Island in December of 2018

POEM: A Sprout’s Life [PoMo Day 18 – Imagist]

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From dirt, the newly sprouted plant
is but two tender leaves, drooping.
Its silken shaft in subtle slant,
in shadow of gardener, stooping.
...
Becomes the tree standing stout -n- straight.
Its leafy limbs doggedly swayed.
Its own acorns now split and sprout,
as the old man sits in its shade.

Four Tenacious Leaf Haiku

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I
the last leaves
on a barren tree,
doggedly hang

 

II
green to red,
the leaves grow, stop,
then fall off

 

III
the rain tree
limbs spiral skyward
all leaves out

 

IV
a tree shape
stands atop a mountain
cactus ruse

POEM: Imagination Tree

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Under blue skies, the live oaks were just trees — hearty and expansive trees.

But in the feeble light of waning days or the frequent forays of morning fog, the rangy and sinuous moss-draped limbs became a Lovecraftian monster, head stuck into the damp loam in an attempted retreat to the underworld.

And if one stood still enough, those limbs just might start to writhe.

POEM: One Tree

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In this land of tropical green,
there is one tree timed to north lands.
Its leaves turn red from deepest green,
and fall as if to season’s plans.

They fall not by mere ones or twos,
but in wild, fluttering masses.
Inside, it gives one the bronzy blues
to starkly feel the year’s passage.

To see sunny-side branches nude,
and know the numbered days still left
for ever-redder multitudes
who suffer time’s — and wind’s — great theft.

No land is so foreign to me
that I can’t see home in a tree.