Cairn, 2019: Paper

It is not first words.
Nor any we have spoken.
But that we may, hoping . . .

* * *

I am lost in this world,
in all the worlds within
in all the words spoken
the storm they ride,
their wind.

But at any moment
may forget the whirl,
remember silent arbour,
rooted anchorage,
quite still.

Whether in clearing
on wood path
or forest full grown.

Waking to tree sense,
breeze through my leaves,
xylem flowing
transpiration free.

I hear the birds singing,
a tune to the day.
Their songs my book of hours,
months, years, nights, days.

Sound waves at sea
on the sonic sound-all.
I sway to their themes,
in the wind of my fall,
silent and knowing
there is no need for more.

Until I come to, share this,
trail golden leaves
for a few breaths spoken,
before they’re scattered,
guttered, senseless, blown.

* * *

For what am I hoping
with these, my tokens . . . 

A. H / K. H-H (17th October 2016)

Cairn, 2019: I Fished For A Word

a repost by link from the last year celebrating my first anniversary or regular posts – one of my haiku linked to from this post

I Fished For A Word

i fished for a word
to set my world in order
stopped still, heard water

(c) A. H / K. H (-H) (April 2018)

Cairn, 2019

In ten days It will be a year since I started posting regularly and more seriously here. I’ve surprised myself, over one hundred and twenty posts – many poems written just to be posted, not all of them though and fewer recently due to work demands. Its been a great stimulus and to connect to…