completing a proof

This is the thirteenth set of haiku from my daily practice started on January 1st, 2021. The previous set is here. I publish a new set every 19 days. Enjoy!

sunflowers bow their

heavy heads in reverence

to the summers end

light seems to find you

reflecting from this good earth

to your inner self

good morning my friend

you peek over the grapes to

wake me from slumber

I know what you are!

catching the little white moths

western wood-peewee

parabolic curves

appear on my walkabouts

life’s concavity

there’s this ritual

of warm coffee in my cup,

listening to birds

cottonwoods have arms

that hug me; sitting so small

at their solemn feet

sometimes we muster

another bloom; another

shoot; despite ourselves

laying on my back

on the forest floor — I feel

I hear, I exist

brace yourself here; now

for this — the ground shaking breath

that you are given

but I feel as if

I fly with all of them that

have ever loved me

our days are fractals

the sun rises and then sets

until it doesn’t

how the light alone

can make the same daily path

so wondrously new

I see you peeking

from behind those purple clouds

you — vast and beyond

untangling this mess

makes me feel like a kitten

completing a proof

maybe all our days

are but loops in the garment

we create in life

selflessness is just

what this small, precious world needs;

breathe out compassion

I am so grateful

for all of the abundance

in this existence

I know that my friends

will flip the leaves from my grave

looking for treasure