Symphony of Grass

her hands brush the grass
keeping tempo with the breeze
private symphony

Artist: Shannon Grissom; Haiku Poet: Mike Evans

She Wonders

is that really her
this stranger in the mirror
it makes her wonder

Artist: Norman Rockwell; Haiku Poet: Mike Evans

Serious Moonlight

silent in their thoughts
she slides her arm inside his
their love … more than words

Artist: Leonid Afremov; Haiku Poet: Mike Evans

Path to Her

the smile in her eyes
his invitation to her
takes his breath away

Artist: Leonid Afremov; Haiku Poet: Mike Evans

Shadow

With her mind in play tonight, Emily tries to calm herself by gazing at the woods from her bedroom window. At this time of night, the combination of a full moon peering just above the tree line and a mischievous breeze work together – to cast ghostly patterns with lights and shadows – fading in and out of the darkness below.

It is 2 AM, but her mind refuses to rest – a voice within that insist on being heard. Yet, she is determined to ignore it. She begins to focus on the fleeting patterns of light and shadow. It’s strange – there is something familiar in the flowing shapes – she can feel it.

With the mental distraction in place, the voice in her head begins to fade – and details from the ghostly shapes emerge. Emily begins to think she can discern a connection among the pattern of moving shapes – parts of a whole perhaps? There is definitely something familiar – something almost life-like about them. She’s not quite sure why they feel familiar to her – or whether she really wants to know what that familiar shape is.

And yet, ever so slowly – a distant thought surfaces within her. At first, a hint of vague memories – dimly formed. Her eyes narrow as she tries to maintain focus on the ghostly shapes – she senses she doesn’t want these memories to return.

Emily almost jumps out of her skin when she hears the laugh – “where did it come from?” she hears herself thinking. And then – she hears it again. It must be an animal deep in the woods making that sound she tries to reason – and yet, she knows that laugh. Yes, that laugh she remembers … and the memories begin to flood her mind – her internal walls can no longer hold them back.

Now – she sees him in the previously amorphous moving patterns of light and shadow on the ground – and the memory of his voice begins to surface in her head. She smiles at the memory – a sad smile, still the same. She wonders at the possibilities – he has been out of her life for so long and he must be so far away … yet he feels so near right now.

The sound of a pebble bouncing off her window momentarily stops her thoughts…

Light

With his mind in play, Ethan continued his late night walk along the path in the woods. It was nearly 2AM, yet with the full moon at his back there was plenty of light. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that she seemed to surface with intensity in his mind during a full moon.

Emily was always close to the surface of his thoughts, but the full moon brought thoughts of her in waves washing over his walls. Although he tried to forget, he knew why – the last time they were together was during a walk on such a night as this.

He quickly forced his mind to concentrate on the woods around him. The trees seemed alive with movement – the leaves dancing about in light and shadow as the breeze flowed through. The woods at night always seemed to calm him – except that one night with Emily … “Damn it, stop thinking about that” he tried to will himself to obey.

Her voice deep within him – normally buried away – persisted in being heard tonight. “You have to face this and make it right” she said. Ethan sighed and let the thoughts wash through him. She was the most beautiful light in his life at one time – but, he let her go that night. He thought he had convinced himself it was for the best, but now…

He walked these woods almost every night – never turning down the trail that led to her house. Funny, he could never convince himself to move away from her – yet, he stayed out of her life. And now … he was unsure if she would see him even if he came to her.

But, her voice was strong inside him tonight. He was half-way along the trail before he realized he was heading towards her house. “Now what?” he wondered. Then – two birds darted across his path. Cardinals he hoped, as a remembered memory made him laugh out loud. It was a sad laugh all the same – an involuntary escape of emotion from deep within, he knew.

And there she was – standing at her bedroom window – and she seemed to be looking right at him. But, he knew she couldn’t see him – at least he didn’t think she could. He smiled wistfully at another memory and hoped this would work – as he picked up a pebble and tossed it at her window.

Artist: Taras Loboda; Author: Mike Evans

Shadows

With her mind in play tonight, Emily tries to calm herself by gazing at the woods from her bedroom window. At this time of night, the combination of a full moon just above the tree line and a slight breeze cast fluid patterns of light on the ground, which appear to come directly out of the darkness.

It is 2 AM, but her mind refuses to rest – a voice within, which persists – that she is determined to ignore. She begins to focus on the moving patterns of light and shadow. Strange – there is something familiar in the shapes – she can feel it.

As the voice in her head begins to fade, details from the moving light and shadow shapes emerge. Emily thinks she discerns a connection among the pattern of moving shapes – parts of a whole perhaps – there is definitely something familiar – something living about them. She’s not quite sure why they feel familiar – or whether she wants to know what that familiar shape is.

And yet, slowly – a distant thought surfaces within her – at first, a hint of vague memories – dimly formed. Her eyes narrow as she tries to maintain focus on the moving light and shadow shapes – she senses she doesn’t want these memories to return.

She almost jumps when she hears the laugh – “where did it come from?” she hears herself thinking. And then – she hears it again – must be an animal deep in the woods making that sound she tries to reason – and yet, she knows that laugh. Yes, that laugh she thinks … and the memories begin to flood her mind – her internal walls can no longer hold them back.

Now … she sees him in the previously amorphous moving pattern of light and shadow shapes on the ground – and the memory of his voice begins to surface in her head. She smiles at the memory – a sad smile, still the same. She wonders at the possibilities – he has been out of her life for so long and he must be so far away … yet he feels so near right now.

The sound of a pebble bouncing off her window momentarily stopped her thoughts…

Artist: Taras Loboda; Author: Mike Evans

A Voice Within

a voice deep within
resonating from her heart
echoes of his love

Artist: Taras Loboda; Haiku Poet: Mike Evans

Within Me Now

in quiet moments
i invited thoughts of you
you’re within me now

Artist: Taras Loboda; Haiku Poet: Mike Evans

Cardinals

Walking this path – their path – again, after so many years – opened a stream of emotions for Jacqueline. She could clearly see Peter, in her mind – his eyes keenly sweeping the sides of the path, looking for movement – any movement. He always let her walk slightly in front of him – and with a broad smile he said, “I want to enjoy you fully in my vision.” This always had the same effect on her – she would blush a deep burgundy shade of red.

Instinctively, she reached out for his arm, like she’d done so many times before. The cool autumn breeze flowed through her fingers – teasing her memory. She felt the sway of her dress against her knees as she walked. She knew that simple movement always entranced Peter – and he would pull her close to him. She reached down to touch the moving fabric – somehow, it made her feel as if he was there – and he was there with her, she decided.

…

They ambled along the path – neither of them in a particular hurry. Jacqueline slid her arm inside of his – their hands locked. She tried to remember their conversation – it was something about … why couldn’t she remember … ah, yes – they were talking about the cardinals at play in the trees along their path. “Quick – right there in that oak tree to the left Jacqueline”, Peter would say.

She would hear the rustle first and then see the brown cardinal dart out, quickly followed by a red cardinal. Then they would sit close to each other on a branch – but not too close. The red cardinal would slowly, almost cautiously, hop towards the brown cardinal – and she would let him almost reach her – and just as he was almost next to her, she would dart off to another branch.

“It’s their dance,” Peter would say – with that simple smile.

…

As she rounded the corner on the path and came upon their spot next to the lake, she felt the first tear…

Ripples

She heard the familiar rustling sound, followed by the sight of the brown cardinal as she darted from a tree in the clearing by the lake to another tree – near the spot Peter would take Jacqueline on these walks. She wondered if this was the same cardinal they had seen so many times before – she hoped it was. Jacqueline expected to see the red cardinal dart out to chase his mate – but, moments passed and he didn’t appear.

After several minutes of peering through the tree waiting to see the red cardinal dart out, Jacqueline finally decided to sit down near the lake’s edge – maybe he would show while she was there. The brown cardinal – Jacqueline decided to name her “Hope” – seemed to acknowledge Jacqueline’s presence and sat alert in a branch just above her head.

Looking out towards the lake and feeling the tears well up inside her, Jacqueline fought hard not to cry – she was determined to make it through this walk without tears.

…

She could see Peter walking around the lake’s bank, looking for the perfect pebble to skip across the surface. He would say, “Each skip is a kiss upon your surface.” She always smiled at that thought – his words sent ripples of emotions through her.

And there he was – with his exaggerated wind up, about to skip his perfect pebble across the lake’s surface. He would first look to her with a simple smile in his eyes and then whirl around in one fluid motion to skip the pebble. He would count out the skips – one, two, three, four, five, six – and sometimes there would be seven.

With the final skip, he would pull Jacqueline close to him and say “and she accepts his final kiss” as their lips would meet – yes, ripples.

…

She didn’t hear Hope leave the branch, but saw her come into her line of sight as the bird skipped across the surface of the lake several times causing little ripples to appear – and then she returned not to the branch, but landed a few yards from where Jacqueline sat on the ground.

And … was that a smile in Hope’s eyes as she peered up at Jacqueline?

Chance

Hope stared at Jacqueline a few seconds more – then tentatively hopped a couple steps closer. Entranced, Jacqueline dared not move … dared not even take a breath. Hope suddenly let out a melodic set of chirps and darted up to the branch above Jacqueline’s head.

Completely confused, Jacqueline stared up at Hope – expecting something … not quite sure what … just something more. But, Hope seemed disinterested in her friend now – instead she made quick jerky head movements towards the trees across the clearing.

After a few minutes of watching Hope and with no sign of acknowledgement, Jacqueline decided she was just overreacting – yeah, it was just a coincidence that the bird had skipped across the water and then landed back near her – just a coincidence – wishful thinking on her part perhaps.

Funny, how the mind can play tricks on you, she reasoned. Jacqueline returned her gaze to the lake – and to thoughts of the last few weeks. Considering all that had pass, she was surprised she had decided to walk this path today and especially sit here – in their spot. Yet, something drew her here today.

She could see the light waves wash along the bank of the lake – a soothing rhythm. The cool autumn breeze on her skin seemed to match the rhythm of the waves – a cleansing feeling began to wash over her. She began to wonder if it was possible… but, no she thought … too much had passed between her and Peter.

The chirping sound from Hope brought Jacqueline out of her revelry. But, it was the returning chirps from across the clearing that really caught her attention. And there he was – the red cardinal, whom Peter had named “Chance” – at least Jacqueline wanted to believe it was him.

And just like that, Chance darted to the branch where Hope sat. He stopped a few feet from her – and slowly hopped closer – this time Hope remained. Then, both birds seemed to look directly at Jacqueline – or more precisely, just behind her. The sight caused a tear to well up in her eyes … thoughts of Peter returning full force.

And then … there he was – sitting down beside her – at first Jacqueline thought she was dreaming. But he reached in with his simple smile and kissed her tear away – and said “We can make this work Jacqueline – just need to give it a chance.”

Artist: Richard Miller; Author: Mike Evans

Ripples

She heard the familiar rustling sound, followed by the sight of the brown cardinal as she darted from a tree in the clearing by the lake to another tree – near the spot Peter would take Jacqueline on these walks. She wondered if this was the same cardinal they had seen so many times before – she hoped it was. Jacqueline expected to see the red cardinal dart out to chase his mate – but, moments passed and he didn’t appear.

After several minutes of peering through the tree waiting to see the red cardinal dart out, Jacqueline finally decided to sit down near the lake’s edge – maybe he would show while she was there. The brown cardinal – Jacqueline decided to name her “Hope” – seemed to acknowledge Jacqueline’s presence and sat alert in a branch just above her head.

Looking out towards the lake and feeling the tears well up inside her, Jacqueline fought hard not to cry – she was determined to make it through this walk without tears.

…

She could see Peter walking around the lake’s bank, looking for the perfect pebble to skip across the surface. He would say, “Each skip is a kiss upon your surface.” She always smiled at that thought – his words sent ripples of emotions through her.

And there he was – with his exaggerated wind up, about to skip his perfect pebble across the lake’s surface. He would first look to her with a simple smile in his eyes and then whirl around in one fluid motion to skip the pebble. He would count out the skips – one, two, three, four, five, six – and sometimes there would be seven.

With the final skip, he would pull Jacqueline close to him and say “and she accepts his final kiss” as their lips would meet – yes, ripples.

…

She didn’t hear Hope leave the branch, but saw her come into her line of sight as the bird skipped across the surface of the lake several times causing little ripples to appear – and then she returned not to the branch, but landed a few yards from where Jacqueline sat on the ground.

And … was that a smile in Hope’s eyes as she peered up at Jacqueline?

Artist: Richard Miller; Author: Mike Evans