(from The Heron’s Nest, Vol. XV, No. 4, December 2013)
—PRAVAT KUMAR PADHY
There is something refreshing about dew on grass, be it late at night or more often in the hour before our 'real' day. Perhaps we have quietly returned home from an illicit adventure, avoiding our parents ire.
If we are older, we are in between that world of trying to be a grown up in the world of adults, but also wanting to be one with another natural order.
I remember as a youngster walking miles and miles, leaving the city, dipping my feet into dew, before the long walk home, too exhausted to think and worry any more, for at least the remains of the day.
.
.
I also remember a wonderful early morning ?rt? when it was cold and the dew and quiet smiles were invigorating and uplifting, as if I'd been washed from the inside out.
Another time was in Japan:
Toshugu shrine pines
I try to stay as still –
mist and dew
Alan Summers
Publication credit: Hermitage (Romania 2005)
Articles: World Haiku Review Japan Article – Vending machines and cicadas (March 2003); Travelogue on World Haiku Festival 2002 Part 1 (Akita International Haiku Network, Japan 2010)
Anthology: We Are All Japan ed. Robert D. Wilson & Sasa Vazic (Karakia Press 2012)
Collection: The In-Between Season (With Words Pamphlet Series 2012)
.
.
April 2nd, 2018 at 9:09 am
Like your ‘garden’ reference.
my own backyard
I forget
to love it ?
April 2nd, 2018 at 6:12 pm
Thank you, Mike, for your kind appreciation.
April 2nd, 2018 at 10:24 am
Such a melancholy feel to this, Pravat.
borne shadows
in each dewdrop
a rainbow
April 2nd, 2018 at 6:10 pm
Thank you, Carol, for your like and your beautiful haiku.
April 3rd, 2018 at 3:16 am
.
melting away my pain— garden dew
(from The Heron’s Nest, Vol. XV, No. 4, December 2013)
—PRAVAT KUMAR PADHY
There is something refreshing about dew on grass, be it late at night or more often in the hour before our 'real' day. Perhaps we have quietly returned home from an illicit adventure, avoiding our parents ire.
If we are older, we are in between that world of trying to be a grown up in the world of adults, but also wanting to be one with another natural order.
I remember as a youngster walking miles and miles, leaving the city, dipping my feet into dew, before the long walk home, too exhausted to think and worry any more, for at least the remains of the day.
.
.
I also remember a wonderful early morning ?rt? when it was cold and the dew and quiet smiles were invigorating and uplifting, as if I'd been washed from the inside out.
Another time was in Japan:
Toshugu shrine pines
I try to stay as still –
mist and dew
Alan Summers
Publication credit: Hermitage (Romania 2005)
Articles: World Haiku Review Japan Article – Vending machines and cicadas (March 2003); Travelogue on World Haiku Festival 2002 Part 1 (Akita International Haiku Network, Japan 2010)
Anthology: We Are All Japan ed. Robert D. Wilson & Sasa Vazic (Karakia Press 2012)
Collection: The In-Between Season (With Words Pamphlet Series 2012)
.
.
April 3rd, 2018 at 8:05 am
A wonderful narration, Alan. You have stationed the word 'dew' into an aesthetic orbit. So nice! Your haiku is a manifestation of imagistic fusion.
April 3rd, 2018 at 8:33 am
Thank you Pravat. Dew is certainly its own champagne to the senses! :-)
April 11th, 2018 at 6:41 am
The soft, fresh sensation of dew underfoot – very soothing. Lovely, Pravat.
marion
April 19th, 2018 at 3:41 am
Thank you, Marion for appreciation. I do enjoy reading your creative haiga.
April 13th, 2018 at 12:41 pm
Pain as transient as dew, both melt away but presence is felt as if it won't go away, well done, Pravat!
April 16th, 2018 at 4:28 am
Thank you, Padma, for your appreciation and comment of great value.
April 20th, 2018 at 11:43 am
Very nicely written.
April 20th, 2018 at 11:51 pm
Thank you, Connie, for your appreciation.