Haiku

Via poetry,
we share the gifts of the soul,
and give spirit form.

This be my heartland
when darkness passes away
into dawn’s beauty

Whispered liturgies
of leaves, scattered among us,
by autumn breezes.

Blood- red and snow-white:
Rothko's abstract paintings are
stark, but beautiful.

Gold and brown leaves mark
this season of remembrance.
I sense solemn hymns.

Softly glows the light,
of September's mellow sun,
across these woodlands.

Fresh, Western winds glide
over the icy blue sea,
in the twilight hour.

A donkey braying;
the drums sound, like frozen slabs
of meat, being punched.

Sleigh bells, are tinkling,
amidst the snow. They arrive
like a long lost friend.

Tight rhythm section,
in dynamic harmony,
kind of like Motown.

.
Enchanting ocean
of sound: wave after wave of
strange, soothing keyboards.

Pocket symphony
of pure love; colours, textures
merging into one.

Heightened emotions,
blazing fury of wild guitar;
dramatic feedback.

Electronic drones
not quite Eastern, mystical,
but so alien.

Swan- like swirls emerge
that are vaguely transcendent:
the slowing of Time

Cold atmosphere,
of these lyrical fragments.
Its chilling the blood.

These sombre notes
buttress terrible beauty:
can't listen for long.