Happiness Haiku

A listener of happiness author Gretchen Rubin’s  podcast recommended the practice of writing a daily haiku to promote mindfulness…noting the little beauties of each day. What a great idea, in a simple form: 3 lines of verse with 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables. It’s quite fun, actually, and worth a try! Here are a few I wrote this morning:

Haiku 1

Morning light floods in

kitchen aflame with brightness

blue sky day begins

Haiku 2

Ring of Queen Anne’s Lace

bursting in my picture frame–

silent fireworks dance

Haiku 3

Sun warms my bare toes…

toddler drags me down the stairs 

delighted to play!

Thanks, Mum

Perhaps motherhood is less about who we are
and more about who we let our children become.

Thanks, Mum, for letting me become me.

20170513-202626.jpg

Thanks for letting me play in the dirt,
build forts in the woods
and climb trees taller than our house.

Thank you for my brothers–
companions in the world of pretend,
where winter was always coming
and we had to stock our pantry with
meat and potatoes–
pine cones and red chunks of log.

Thanks for giving me my own tiny garden
to grow flowers and cucumbers
and look for fairies in the morning dewdrops.

Thanks for letting me stay up late reading
“The Hobbit” and “Anne of Green Gables,”
and for those quiet chats before bed,
when the hectic bustle of the day was over
and you lay in your long cosy nightgown,
listening to me.

Thanks for taking me travelling
to live overseas,
to speak a new language
and see so many places
beyond our small town in Canada.
(It was awesome, eh?)

Thanks for making those thousands of school lunches
and the unimaginable amounts of laundry,
for letting me play soccer and do drama
and especially for coming to my plays.

Thanks for encouraging me to write, take pictures and chase dreams.

And as I read stories to my own brood of elves and fairies,
build forts and make gardens with them,
I smile at getting to be a kid again,
your happy daughter, still.

20170513-205815.jpg

The City of God Awaits

This day of silence
of waiting
of separation from our Beloved,
is it not our life?

As we flock to the streets where He walked
and weep that He walks there no longer,
do we not share one heart?

Longing for the Beloved
whose shadow has passed by
and disappeared like smoke,
choking us with grief…

Longing for
Immanuel,
Paradise–
a love that never fails
a light that never ceases
a warmth which will never turn a cold shoulder
and leave us truly abandoned.

Our tears are equally precious pearls
no matter the tongue
which utters our sobs,
no matter the place we pray
and beg for the kingdom of peace
to be now.

20170415-220048.jpg