The hour aches with unnamed sadness. Beyond the windshield, prairie fields brushed with snowy ice crystals, the sky washed in pewter — a timeless monochrome postcard. Birds long gone on their southward migration. Now, it is my turn.
In a quiet mood, driving a winter highway to the airport, I tune the radio to a classical piano recital. Chords stream my body in a strange metaphysical familiarity. The music is a clarion call signalling an invisible shift. I grip the steering wheel, transfixed, listening for hidden messages.
I am bound for warmth: wood fires, pots of coffee, the weekend newspaper, some sections still folded and waiting for me. But I sense home slipping inside an alternate trajectory. Some small tender things will come with me — most will be left behind. I can only go forward, brave-hearted, into all that grief and beauty.
Bach’s chorale prelude Alle Menschen müssen sterben translates to “all men must die.” In my faraway trance with the linen sun muted by clouds, those grave words from the radio host invoke my transmuting world.
wingtips shear the wind
over buried fields —
snowy owl
Proud to have my debut haibun* published in Haiku Canada Review, October 2023, Volume 17, Number 2.
Canadian pianist Angela Hewitt playing J.S. Bach Alle Menschen müssen sterben:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNIli5QFFKA
- Haibun is a poetry form that combines poetic prose with haiku. 🌸
