her doors all shored, swan sanctuary sought,
simultaneously shut out
she’s been beating them down to let herself back
in to herself

all because
– all? –
stranger guards
denied her temple’s sanctity

distraught a vision pauses her
all too human task

of so many temple intruders past
wild ones in need of a Holy of Holies
doors broken down broken in
to stand, sit, kneel, lie with it, in it
on it, by it, at it, from it, of it, to have it

how deep even in unknowing
the temple lay, in every way,
all around anyway

so she stops
to behold —
held in it

doors open

A. H/ K.H-H (19th September 2019)

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)


  the trees believe in ground in sky a murmuring of leaves sing life they calm me as they take the wind sail me back toward myself allow trunk whispered secrets knitted into wooden containment then still they wait, they always will, their will is to abide my whisper dreamt that then I’d know the…

practical faith

sometimes i find myself,
to curiously misstate,
find myself quite lost.
Pan in the trees
catch in the breath,
path, clear, lost.
Desperation rises
. . .