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the sky wears a scowl
just before it opens up
and begins to howl

we spent the evening
communing with stars that chose
to make themselves known

my plea through the tears
of the girl at the counter:
it can’t be all bad.

*
This is one of those haiku written because I spend a lot of time watching. Occasionally, I intrude on the things I see, but mostly I just observe.

It’s been a lifelong habit, a curiosity about what people do and the way they think. I’m probably still at it because of the precious little progress I’ve made so far. It’s probably the same reason I read blogs and talk to people whose experiences and opinions are least like mine.

It’s probably also part of the reason you (whoever you are) read the haiku and other words scattered over this site. Or is it?

what we could not see,
what we failed to comprehend,
was everything.

where darkness gives way
to her luminescent shape,
energy remains

*
I was listening to that George Noory fellow on the radio one night last week while driving home. He was talking to someone who suggested that perhaps things we perceive as ghostly visions could well be leftover energy. Energy doesn’t begin or end in the classic sense; it merely transfers from one form to another. So the idea of ghosts being the energy leftovers of what they were before made sense to me.

While I’ve never seen anything I’d refer to as a ghost, I do believe, as Teilhard de Chardin suggested, we are spiritual beings having a physical experience and not the other way around. From that paradigm, energy as an element of spirit doesn’t seem far-fetched at all.

image: koke

the whispering trees
leave the shrubbery taunted
by airborne secrets.