“A Few Haiku (8)”

On By Mike U.In Poetry

(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley

(#43)

Sweat upon my brow
Dries to crystal salt; my toil
Earns ivory crown

…..

(#44)

Early morning mist
Mother cloud comes home to nest
Earth is safe and warm

…..

(#45)

Insects whispering
Secrets filled with mystery
As I plant the rice

…..

(#46)

In the pond I learned
All I need to know of life
Koi glide peacefully

…..

(#47)

My old white dog tries
To catch the swift stream but he
Only ends up wet

…..

(#48)

In these callused hands
There is dirt beneath the nails
Strength and wisdom too

15 thoughts on ““A Few Haiku (8)””

    1. Thanks, Mark. I was sort of chuckling when I wrote that one. It just came all at once as I recalled my old farm dogs who would lounge in cow ponds during the summers, imagining what they’d have done if they’d seen a stream. 😀

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. This is what is so good about haiku! In a moment of clarity an idea comes to you and then it also can have a life of itself. I have been thinking a lot about impermanence lately and as I read this it immediately became a great metaphor on the passing of time and attachment. The old dog, or the old man, tries to get a hold of the passing of time, that flows like a river. All attempts are in vain, because we can’t stop the river, Instead we just end up wet.

        Liked by 1 person

    2. You’re so right, Mark. We’re always grasping at the past, or trying to corral the future, even as the present is wending its way past us. This is especially relevant as we age and things seem to speed up so much as our own mortality looms closer by the day. Like you, I love how haiku take on a life of their own. I’m both surprised and delighted by this when I read my own haiku after a time and see aspects I didn’t notice while writing them. The concept of impermanence is such a profound idea and you described it so eloquently on your website not long ago. I certainly feel like that old white dog in the stream much of the time, splashing about futilely as I try to grab the brass ring of time… Thanks for your insights and thanks for reading and commenting. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  5. Pingback: A Few Haiku (8) – Gobblers by Masticadores

  6. Dearest Mike, each of these is gorgeous and has a lesson in tow. I love each of them for a different reason. There is nothing like having our hands in the dirt and dirt under our nails.

    I wish I had been your neighbor when I was young, and you could have called to me, “Hay, come here, little girl!” We would have been the best of friends, always! Thank you for these beautiful pieces of truth and wisdom my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thanks, Joni. Yeah, dirty hands are just a part of growing up on a farm (and a part of childhood in general). And you can bet if we’d been neighbors as kids, I’d have shouted, “Hey, come here, little girl!” and we’d have become fast friends, for sure. It would have been wonderful to have had a farm friend since I was stuck between two sisters who never played with me. 😂 Oh well.

      Thanks as always for your wonderful insights and kind words, my friend. I hope you and Scott are doing well. Lots of love to both of you from my neck o the woods. 😊

      Like

      Reply

Leave a reply to julesbikepoems Cancel reply