Moon hangs overhead
Spinning, molten iron core
Restless sea between
The sea, the sky, the sand. Oh and the moon. So few elements. Like a haiku. And like a haiku, so many variations subtle and deep.
The moon hangs in the sky, lingering late into morning. The sea is disturbed, its surface ruffled. It smells different today. Of fish and deep water. Is there a storm brewing far beyond our view? I try to imagine a tsunami. Imagine the earth shake thousands of miles away. Shake and drive all this water in one giant wave. Such power is unfathomable.
We sit quietly on the surface, where deep below is a molten iron core, making our precious Earth alive where other planets are barren. A molten iron core, rotating in space, creating our magnetic field, deflecting radiation. Making our earth alive. It is too much to absorb as I sit here quietly on the brink of the sea one moment drifting in peaceful reverie the next smelling the fish, the deep water, and returning once again to awe.
Blue yet multihued
Restless yet immutable
The tide comes in. On the rising water I float, staring at the moon. I hear her Siren song. Feel her pull. I know her soul is silken, silver. She is not barren, cold, dark. Her light comes from within, not merely reflected, borrowed luminance.
The sea is my womb
Born of the pow’r of the deep
On land but for now
[With thanks to Robert Okaji. I was not aware of haibun until I read his post Texas Haibun.]