melting away my pain— garden dew
(from The Heron’s Nest, Vol. XV, No. 4, December 2013)
Published by
Pravat Kumar Padhy
Scientist and Poet. Pravat Kumar Padhy, PhD hails from Odisha, India. His poems have been featured in anthologies and periodicals of repute. His haiku, tanka and haibun have appeared in Poetbay, Kritya, The World Haiku Review, Lynx, Four and Twenty, The Notes from the Gean, Chrysanthemum, Atlas Poetica, Simply Haiku, Red lights, Ribbons, Lilliput Review, Under the Basho, Acorn, The Heron's Nest, Shamrock, A Hundred Gourds, Magnapoets, Bottle Rockets, Asahi Haikuist Network, The Mainichi News, Mu International, Frogpond, Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival 2013, Presence, HSA Haiku Wall in Bend, Oregon, USA, The Bamboo Hut etc. He is a recipient of Editor's Choice awards, Citations, Special and Honourable Mentions. Songs of Love: A Celebration published by Writers Workshop, Calcutta is his latest collection. Recently his tanka appeared in the anthology, Fire Pearls 2, Keibooks , USA and he is featured in The Dance of the Peacock : An Anthology of English Poetry from India, Hidden Brook Press, Canada, 2013, Epitaphs, Inner Child Press, USA in association with Shambhabi, West Bengal, 2014. View all posts by Pravat Kumar Padhy
Like your ‘garden’ reference.
my own backyard
I forget
to love it ?
Thank you, Mike, for your kind appreciation.
Such a melancholy feel to this, Pravat.
borne shadows
in each dewdrop
a rainbow
Thank you, Carol, for your like and your beautiful haiku.
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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.
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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)
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A wonderful narration, Alan. You have stationed the word 'dew' into an aesthetic orbit. So nice! Your haiku is a manifestation of imagistic fusion.
Thank you Pravat. Dew is certainly its own champagne to the senses! :-)
The soft, fresh sensation of dew underfoot – very soothing. Lovely, Pravat.
marion
Thank you, Marion for appreciation. I do enjoy reading your creative haiga.
Pain as transient as dew, both melt away but presence is felt as if it won't go away, well done, Pravat!
Thank you, Padma, for your appreciation and comment of great value.
Very nicely written.
Thank you, Connie, for your appreciation.