Daily haiku: Week 3
creative writing
Daily Haiku Week 2
What are your favorite animals?
My favorite animals are the ones that have soft fur, wet noses, whiskers, and soft ears.
But I also like the ones that have feathers and fly and sing.
Oh but then there are the colorful ones that swim. And then there are some of the ones that swim that are really big and curious and smart.
I like the ones with big long necks and the ones with long funny noses that like peanuts but are afraid of mice. Is that really true?
I even like the ones that slither, although I keep my distance. And the ones that crawl, scurry, scamper, or hop. The ones that bray, or neigh, or moo.
I wonder if they like me too?
The oldest thing I own
What’s the oldest thing you own that you still use daily?
Hmmm… I own a lot of old things. I collect old books, I have some pretty old coins, old photographs, old records. But I don’t use those things regularly. So I would have to say the oldest thing I own that I still use daily would be my body.
My body will be 48 this year and it’s a little worse for wear, with the arthritis, poor eyesight (got my first pair of bifocals last year), and skin beginning to sag.
What a drag it is getting old.
But I do love my body and I’m grateful for it. My body is a vehicle for moving my soul around in 3-D, and while it may not be aesthetically pleasing to some, it is strong and reliable.
If my body were a real vehicle it would look like this one
Classic.
Petal by Petal
Petal by petal, each opening day
presenting itself in its perfect way.
Reveling in every moment sublime,
revealing nothing before its time.
The delicate softness, the biting thorn,
Something to celebrate, something to mourn.
Sticky sweet nectar the butterfly brings,
will also attract the honey bee stings.
The darkness, the light, embrace every day
Until, petal by petal, they all fall away.
Rusty
A rusty, dusty instrument
abandoned on a shelf
used roughly and uncared for
it cannot play itself
but it still contains the music
that could stir the souls of men
it’s all inside, all it needs
is one skilled pair of hands
to pluck the strings
and make it sing
just like it did before
it was put away
to sit and stay
unused forevermore.
Blessing
A blessing in disguise
is the very best kind.
When everything seems all wrong,
and your heart is wrung with sadness-
the proverbial ‘dark night of the soul’,
the breaking dawn reveals
a deeper understanding,
a deeper gratitude.
Pain is the price of wisdom.
To 2022
In the coming year,
the only drama I want to see
is that of a bird taking flight,
or a riotous garden of blooms.
The only shade thrown is
sunlight through leaves.
The only influencer I want to follow
is the one who encourages me
to be still, the one who welcomes me
with branches spread wide,
like grandmother’s arms,
the one who caresses my face
with winds that whisper in high tree tops-
“Welcome home.”
© Amy Porterfield 2021
Autumn Morning
Autumn morning,
golden, delicious,
crisp as a ripe apple.
Rising sun
lifting a blanket of fog,
waking the world,
whispering secrets into the wind.
Listen.
Be still, and listen.
© Amy Porterfield 2021
playing in the dappled sunshine 