Over at dVerse Pub for Poets Bjorn is pouring and has told us all to take a hike. He would have us write a haibun inspired by that venerable pastime of contemplatives, walking. I walked this way:
They say time marches on, inexorably forward, can’t stop its hands or its steady feet. They are wrong, and not because sometimes time drags its feet, other times runs, hops, skips, even dances forward. Time is no different than you or I, out for a stroll, this way or that way, walking in circles.
walking in circles
all who wander are not lost
simply on their way
One day, time and a poet went for a walk. They agreed it would be a leisurely pace, no marching; but what direction would they take? They drew straws and time drew short so they went with the poet’s preference. They went wherever sights and sounds and scents led, which was back, back to remembered times and places. They wandered through memories and meandered in reveries. These they recognized as landmarks, so were not disoriented as they circled back to present where they walked without moving, talked without speaking.
taking a first step
getting out of one’s own way
feet lift off the ground