someone or something unseen clears its throat and the sound hangs strangely in this lonely space
Tag: haiku
wings flutter and the odd old tree groans
the quiet retreats: imagine a pulse that expands and contracts on contact with sound
rise and fade: glass towers on the horizon obscured by a curtain of haze
water taps lightly waking cold stone
sound lingers in this sacred space of dark deciding on its next course of action
dark before dawn: breathing slows and blends with the quiet
if winter was nothingness then spring must be the paradox from which something was constructed
in this fertile space: every action births some form of reaction physical or mental seen or unseen felt or forgotten
a soft feathered face stares back but the gods call it continuity
elancharan gunasekaran 