Now that it’s springtime, I’m finding that my morning walk is much more enjoyable. Not only do the muscles and joints appreciate warmer air, but that air is full of the commotion of new beginnings. Birds sing cantatas to the accompaniment of new-leafed trees interpreting the wind’s melody. If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear the worms burrowing deep to escape robins.

On spring walks, haiku come with joyous ease. Sometimes, these small, compact poems are just about ordinary things having fun… and what can be more ordinary than grass? So:

“Each sharp blade of grass

is sporting glittering dew…

show-offs wearing bling.”

Other times, when the skies are gray or when a knee is giving grief, or when a melancholy comes suddenly out of nowhere and settles about the heart like gray smoke, my haiku tend to reflect another mood. A few morning ago I glanced idly at a house that has lain untenanted for several months. In the neglected yard stood a gloriously blossoming Kwanzan cherry tree and under it a worn down wooden bench.  Then, this haiku:

“Who now sits on bench

under Kwanzan cherry tree?

That abandoned house.”

All of us, I think, ‘write’ moments and impressions into our daily lives. That snatch of music heard as we pass makes us hum or smile or give greeting more cheerfully than usual. The flash of a golden finch’s wings or the wriggle of a puppy eager to play lightens the spirit. No wonder that if we look we can find inspiration for our art everywhere.  Some time ago, I found a visitor resting on our door… a luminous, jade-green Luna Moth.

Where had she been, what had she experienced, to weary her enough that she south refuge on a stranger’s door? I watched at a respectful distance, eyes tracing the elegant curve of her spread wings, the markings to fool night predators, the flat gold of her body and her feathery antennae. Later, when she had flown away, I sketched out the pattern for a quilted picture.

‘Clair de Luna’ is finished, now. When I look at it, I hope that my visitor is spreading her wings in the dark and sampling the nectar of night flowers under a silver moon!


About Maureen C. Wartski

I’m Maureen Wartski, writer, artist, wife, mother, grandmother; you can see that I have many of the bases covered. I was born in Ashiya, Japan, a (then) small town which lay cradled between sea and mountains. In the evenings, we would walk along the road that ran past Osaka Bay, and a great moon would rise out of the water to turn the world to silver. I’m told that my first words were, “Big moon!” All my life I have felt the tug to write something, draw something, put together something with fabric, string and color, and the urge to create has grown through the years. I suppose, then, that it’s a natural thing that this blog be full of the things that so many of you enjoy doing…drawing, making something with fabric, and writing. Yuri's Brush with Magic, my newest book for middle schoolers follows the adventures of a brother and sister, the magic of words, and the incredible magic of the natural world. I'd love to hear from you! You can send me a note at: maureen@wartski.org/ My blog is here: https://maureenwartski.wordpress.com/ Or friend me on Facebook!

2 responses »

  1. Maureen,

    Wow! Such different haikus but with a common thread. Are you collecting these for a book? You should! I love how the Luna Moth inspired a work of art. You are so talented!

    Linda A.

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