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Posts tagged ‘time’

Haiku and Loku Days-Stones in My Pockets

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2015

Calamitous life events. During mine, I asked someone, “Does the pain ever go away?” “No,” he said. “But eventually you find a way to put it in a little box and store it away where it doesn’t hurt as much.” Another friend likened the hurt, the painful memories, to a stone in your pocket.

Stones in your pockets. You revisit each stone, taking it out, turning it over and over, looking at it from every side, scrutinizing it, analyzing it, holding on to it, holding on to the pain and then putting it back into the dark to weigh you down, you not ready to let go. Maybe you hold onto it because you feel you have nothing else to hold or hold onto.

You take it out again and  again. Each time cutting your heart on the shards of  broken illusions. But each time the edges smooth a little and then a little more until the stones of sorrow diminish, slip away, stone after stone, your life pieced as a path cobbled from those sorrows, from those stones.  The stones that had weighed you down were stepping stones, all along, to lead you to your life.

 

Stones in My Pockets

Time’s fingers reach for,
Turning over and over,
Stones in my pockets.
 
Rounding edges of
Heart shards aftermath pain path, 
Stones in my pockets.
 
Time alone softened stone
Let go echoes cobbled stones
Fall from my pockets.
 
 
 
Pebbles by West Country Photographic

Pebbles by Westcountry Photographic

 
 
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Haiku and Loku Days-Cicada At the Edge of Grass and Concrete

© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2015

The SSB Drever and I were walking the other day.  The humidity is up and it is hot by eight. It is mid summer again. The din of cicadas is in the air again. They are emerging from their shells, mating, and dying, leaving their progeny, again. Cycles upon cycles. Emergence. Shedding shells. We rest still where grass meets concrete.

.

Cicada

 
Winged green meets concrete
 
Din of time lies still, passage
 
Silent marks our clock
 
Cicada at the edge of concrete and grass. © Jo Hewitt 2015

Cicada at the edge of concrete and grass. © Jo Hewitt 2015

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