Morning Haiku

By

soft light filters in

chilled bones warmed by fresh sunshine

coffee and green shoots


Just scratching where it itches!

Popular posts from this blog

How Was Your Living Today

By
How was your living today? How  was your first breath spent? Was it to pray? As your eyes strained to open, did you feel a great dare? How was your living today? How was your loving today? Did you offer a smile? Did you listen a while? Was forgiveness your gift? Did you ease a friend’s trouble? How was your loving today? Did you feel every beat of your heart? Are you certain that you will remember The roads you have travelled, the souls you have touched? Did you feel every beat of your heart? How will you rest this night? Will the history you’ve made be right? Is all that you’ve done true to the Son? How will you rest this night? How was your living today?
Read more

The Blessed and the Burdened

By
The Blessed and the Burdened (A Manifesto for the Well Born) It is truly a blessing to be well born. To enter the world through no doing of your own — cradled in safety, fed without fear, taught to speak the right words, walk the right paths, dream the right dreams. You did not choose your fortune, but it chose you. And for others? It chose differently. They are born into the bottom tiers, where the floor is hard, and the ceilings low, where the labor is endless, and the rewards are few. Their backs bear the weight of a world that calls them “unskilled,” “expendable,” “lazy,” though it cannot function without them. Society is not a ladder. It is a machine. And machines require gears — some large, some small, some shining, some worn down to rust. The economy does not ask, “Who deserves to rise?” It asks, “Who will serve where we need them?” This is not a flaw. It is design. If all were equal, who would pick the fruit? Who would sweep the floors? Who would clean the wounds, staff the mid...
Read more

The Fall Sky Has Found Me

By
The Fall sky has found me today  Earth's crown dressed in blue, replaced by the gray  Tears of the season sooth the scorched fields  Soon Earth will sleep, soon it will heal   Wind scours the warmth with merciless treason  My Summer well lived, I resign to the season   Alas! Now we'll know the bite and the howl.  Not far in the distance breathes Winter most foul.   Is it so fearful you beg to beware  No ! T'is the blessing of God's loving care.   Doubt not resurrection as Summer does close  There are yet many Springs for the blush of the rose.  Copyright © 2005 by Marc Ernest Brodeur
Read more