poetry n art
3 Haiku Revolution 1969 I
It was a time , wow. It was a matter of truth. We believed it then.
II
There were flowers then, Peace and love And hope filled hearts And guns and bombs, pow!
III
It was a dream time. We were waiting to awaken. I am waiting still. —Bobby Miller
“Eclipse” 36” x 34” Acrylic on canvas
This Thing Called Spring This thing called Spring Wraps around the edge of the world, Dragging water and sun along with her, Trailing behind her, floating behind her, Massaging a misted earth (We hear her message) As she passes. This thing called Spring. This thing called Spring, Coats wet willow wands wine With questions witches cannot answer, As she begins her revelation, As she begins her older than old narration (We hear her tale) Of what will and what must. This thing called Spring. This thing called Spring, Holds until her floods bring riots Of crabapple and plum, and Green arrowed leaves let fly Yellow trumpets and violet hearts. She sings of elder fungi swelling grander than trees. (We hear her song) under the disturbed ground. This thing called Spring.
Certainty Winter solstice Moon eclipse Echoes the uncertainty That we feel The world slides Away into change Nothing solid to hold onto The only certainty My love For you —Chris Malcomson Decenber 2021
This thing called Spring, Plants her cold feet through memories of snow, Cruelly, slowly (We hear her toes suck mud). Until sun and water and grass and ferns And old red mushrooms Remind her that the world continues to roll and roll. She comes, sighs, and cannot hold. This thing called Spring.
—Linda Kaye-Moses
Andrea Joyce Feldman graces our pages with a great sense of humor and talent for cartooning and communication ideas.
THE ARTFUL MIND MAY 2022 • 35
