At dVerse Lisa is hosting Poetics with an invitation to engage with the Japanese (derived from Chinese) 72 seasons and to write a haiku based on – Sekki as major season and Ko as minor season within the major. For in depth information click the link below for dVerse and further links.
“The night air was soft and laden with the redolence of impending blossoms.” Meeta Ahluwalia
My choice of major and micro season are: Sekki – Spring; Ko – Risshun (beginning of spring). Damsel flies are an early sign of spring, there is both joy in the coming of spring and sadness that winter is going (because it is fleeting – which means, ergo, that spring is also short lived). The fireplace empty means spring is here, a different nuance.
“I want to do to you what spring does with cherry trees.” Pablo Neruda
The beautiful blossom was in its fullness
and the buds were lush and ripe,
swollen with colour so strong,
stems supple with every flex,
the birds and the bees came
to be tantalised by that sweet nectar,
so rich a honey overflowing, it ached,
she looked up as he turned,
he smiled her personification of spring.
Notably, April is autumn in Australia and is less visually distinct, except for the introduction of deciduous plants which change colour and shed their leaves. In contrast most eucalypts shed all year round, and the only noticeable colouring of autumn is the green grass. But in the northern hemisphere it is spring. April means, following the Latin aperire, to open. I’m going with spring for this poem.
She was more than a little shy,
slow to blossom and
reluctant to show,
she clung to the covers of winter
fearing she’d catch cold,
but one warm day she unfurled
her buds so beautiful
limbs slender yet full
her nakedness was
but only for a moment,
what really captivated
was the way she opened
inwardly for everyone
and touched the eyes
of their hearts.
The verdant sea of lush green and pink, as everlastings burst forth in their annual declaration of spring. Datjoin reserve on the Burakin-Wialki Road today.
Ah, spring, such seduction, such beauty,
a carpet of vibrant surprise.
At your invitation
I traced your rain gouged furrows,
I fell in love with you and
caressed your beauty as I
lay in your lush and verdant places,
never once averting my eyes.
Last spring near Mayanup, one of those scenes so common in the bush, the wildflowers awaken and disturb the sedate tones of sepia that is our winter scape with rich colours. The rains soak into the soil, the sun warms and the seeds respond, an awakening of visual delight, and food for the soul.
A beautiful sunny September day out in the wheat-belt, at a favourite spot – Baladjie Rock. I love the way the light streams down, and the effect on the clouds. The dark line in the centre is a bird, a wedge-tailed eagle, a magnificent bird to observe. It had been raining in previous days, but this was a beautiful sunny and warm day and spring was certainly in the air.