A door bangs shut. Something has entered. Or departed. What was, no longer is. What is, was not, a moment ago. Whatever has changed, has changed forever. And that door is firmly closed now. Who knows if it will ever open again. Who knows how long it had been shut. Who knows if it was open long enough for a paradigm to shift.
Were you present in that moment? Were you observer? Or bookkeeper? Did you enter? Did you leave? Were you the idea that was transformed? Or were you the door, open for a while to movement and now locked and bolted so the September wind knocks, waits, sighs and blows away, the wet footprints on the threshold, a fleeting clue, slowly unpainted by a placid sun.
sound of thunder
sky giving way
to sky
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Got the beginnings of this in my email and was shocked. It slammed right into the place where I am and I had to hold my breath and try to understand how anyone could know this in this exact moment.
The sky opens itself
giving itself away in sound
of a single heartbeat
Elizabeth
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Thank you, Elizabeth – I too have read things sometimes that seem to understand the core of my being. And I love that thought of the sky giving itself away!
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Yes, that’s exactly what it is – a thought NOT a haiku.
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Reblogged this on Frank J. Tassone and commented:
#Haiku Happenings #5: Thotpurge’s latest #haibun!
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