Of Lovelorns & Haiku

He She
Early morn, window frosts
    the cold draft of winter whisks —
A door left ajar.
White is this morning
    on a bough a red birda sings —
A song of good-byes.
My very first step
    reluctantly to depart
Tears begin to fall.
Footprints in the snow
    lead back through the frigid tears —
To an empty door.
The door swings open
    bringing the bitter winds
The erring footfalls.
Still remains the door
    the footfalls — a wishful thought
My heart awakens.
No vestiges remain
    footprints, scents — lost to winter
Save my opaque heart.
White is the morning
    on a bough the red bird sings —
A song of good-byes.

aA cardinal.
Lovelorn, adjective for someone who is unhappy because of unrequited love.

April 7: Thoughts

09:30   Yep, Cover 3 would beat that Tight End route; good job, EA.

09:48   I didn’t think I’d feel this cold here in this freezer. I thought I was impervious to it. Must be getting old. Alright, where is that kale? I must have missed it on the first go. Cold, cold … Continue reading

I did not know whether my wife was alive, and I had no means of finding out (during all my prison life there was no outgoing or incoming mail); but at that moment it ceased to matter. There was no need for me to know; nothing could touch the rength of my love, my thoughts, and the image of my beloved. Continue reading
A thought transfixed me: for the fir time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth — that love is the ultimate and the highe goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greate secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: Continue reading

Beyond the Hills of Dream

Over the mountains of sleep, my Love,
Over the hills of dream,
Beyond the walls of care and fate,
Where the loves and memories teem;
We come to a world of fancy free,
Where hearts forget to weep; —
Over the mountains of dream, my Love,
Over the hills of sleep. Continue reading