second blossom —
the orchid professes
its faith in the sun

great blue heron
in one nest among many
high above the creek

that first violet
teaching us to see
all the others

even miles away
I can still feel your laugh
here where my heart beats

Haikuversary #12!

rain and more rain  —

seed catalogs offering

sun on every page

Friends, tomorrow is my #haikuversary! 

With tomorrow's post, I will have been posting at least one haiku I can stand to share  every day for TWELVE YEARS. (!)

In celebration, I hereby invite you to join me in celebrating the art of haiku.

Here are some ways that you might decide to join in the fun. (Put whatever you decide to share either here in the comments or over on Blue Sky, where I am, of course @butwait. I will be traveling for some the day tomorrow, so I'm trying to get out in front a little.)

• Poke around in the archives, find a favorite, and share it! Bonus points if you tell me why you like it. (But sometimes it's hard to say why, so no pressure.)
• Find a photo that you think pairs well with one of my haiku, and either tell me about it or create a haiga (image + haiku, e.g. this one)!
• Pick a date that is meaningful to you - just the date, not the year - and let me share a haiku I wrote on that date. Bonus points - again, no pressure! - if you tell me why the date is significant to you.
• Send me a word that you'd like to see me try to incorporate into a haiku (no promises!)
• Tell me about a moment that seemed "haiku-worthy" to you, but that you haven't quite managed to capture in the way you were hoping to
• Share a haiku of your own! (And don't worry too much about the whole 5-7-5 thing.)
• Tell me about your haiku reading practice! Do you come here and read mine, or do you only read them on Twitter? Who else writes haiku that you enjoy?
• Got any other ideas? In the past I've had a few friends write a haiku in response to one of mine, which has been lovely and thrilling.

Thank you for considering dedicating some of your time and energy to helping me celebrate this small thing amidst everything big and scary that's going on right now.

under last year's leaves
this year's infant bees
and beneath them, seeds

crocuses coming —
I stop to wonder
who's cheering who

mid March blood moon —

another night finds me

up past my bedtime

dear friends of the sky
we can hear you up there
as you return home