healingwords: poetry for the soul

I have been writing Haiku whilst in hospital, taking my mind back to nature. Here are a selection of both Spanish and English nature haiku.  rest by sacred Oak soul eased by tree energy at home in green woods velvet night, silence cloaks village, jabali roam, root buried almonds eagle loops earthward casts wingspan on roof terrace soars to dot in sky stalking hunter pads blood oozes on virgin snow cat licks crimson paw in stillness spot red robins hop, blue tits hover, coal blackbirds squabble golondrinas swoop in mudspit caves under eaves, hungry heads peak out garden birds flutter to hedgerows, wiry squirrel, brush curled, raids the nuts creep along marsh dyke snow feathered egrets arise cloud fans aqua sky marsh egret escapes black reed sticks hop the shore line saffron feet dance the waves salt flats shimmer pink flamingos strut, loop bowed necks jet dipped bills sift shrimp

As I am still stuck inside a hospital room I am reposting a poem that takes my mind away,  written for those of us who search for peace of mind in the midst of the storm. With love and gratitude to my dear friends. BECALMED In the eye of the storm, wearied by frenzied winds, tossed into quiet calm, momentary peace descends. Heavy lids close as head dips, hands unclench, fingers release, weight sinks into soft welcome, breath slows as soul is freed. Flying high over mountains, skimming spiked pine tops, swoop low over olive groves, gnarled gnomes trimmed with silver. Carried on citric valley breeze, funneled floating between sleeping giants, guarding passage to bay curved in sand smile. Catch a rising warmth, sky flyer soaring, dazzled by healing light, sun mirrored on gilded sea. In flight find freedom, sea charge, strength renewed, mind calmed in balance, as voice carries and spirit flows.

             I am saddened to hear of the death of Mary Oliver. Her poetry bought inspiration, solace, wisdom to the dark places and over all hope in the transformative power of nature to heal our souls and bring us closer to the divine nature in all things.  I am writing daily Haiku, this is my distilled response to her death, I will spend my day reading her wonderful poetry. MARY OLIVER Mary Oliver walking in woods, poetry healing heart and soul. Words copyright  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill. All rights reserved.                                                                  

My dear friend Elaine sent me this photograph to bring some nature into the hospital room. She is my mother's water nymph who lived in our garden since I was a child. After the house was sold Elaine took her in and she now sits on a beautiful Welsh hillside beside running water.  The poem inspired by this story is written as a sonnet, not a form I usually use. I am doing an online poetry course with the inspirational and brilliant poet and tutor Wendy Pratt and this was one of the challenges. To read her poetry and thoughts I have added a link to her page and a new one set up by Jacqui Rowe who posts beautifully crafted and moving daily haiku. https://wendyprattpoetry.wordpress.com/ https://17haiku.wordpress.com/ WATER NYMPH It had to be done, the house had to sell, emptying daily, lives bagged and removed, little by little the house now a shell, stripped of their presence, its heart removed, saving the precious, my fragile soul bruised. I walk in th

I have had to spend some time in hospital and my mind wanders to the outdoors. This is one of my favourite trees, I will visit as soon as I am able.  As with the NHS, I am grateful for the care of the Spanish public health system, also under pressure of cuts and privatisation. We must never take public health care for granted. It is there at our hour of need.  This short poem wrote itself.  OAK GROVE Scramble over terraces pocked with ash stone plucked from terracotta by knarled, ancient hands, mossed with sage velvet, wrinkled in lichen etched chamomile  gold. Scratched by wild bramble, barbs claiming denim, entrapping ankles, spiked wire wool bundles guarding tumbled walls, protecting the entrance to the Grove within. Pass opened boundary to stand, still, in silence, seek assent to proceed. Honcho Oak beckons me, crunch leaf and acorn, lay hand on cragged trunk, lean, nurtured, at Oak’s feet. © 2018 Jacqueline Knigh