For a life that remained only a possibility, yet forever became part of my life. Sometimes, healing is not the absence of sorrow, but the courage to let memory sit beside gratitude.
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Some stories linger in flowing water, in changing light, and in the quiet imagination of those who pause to notice.
Watching sunlight scatter across the surface, I found myself wondering whether every ripple writes a story before letting it go.
This haiku has been composed in the traditional three-line form, with conscious attention to brevity, imagery, and rhythm, while recognising the flexibility that characterises English-language haiku.
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Silence means to me…
Silence has never felt singular to me. It can be a refuge, a burden, a gesture of civility, a form of resistance, or a quiet suffering. At times, it even becomes a shared unspoken agreement, what some might call a quiet conspiracy of silence.
Though not an emotion in itself, silence often carries the weight of one.
Vietnamese Zen Master, Thich Nhat Hanh observed that true silence is not merely the absence of noise but freedom from the inner chatter that keeps us from being present. Perhaps that is why silence is so difficult to define.
The more I reflected on it, the more it seemed to reveal less about sound and more about the way we relate to ourselves, to others, and to what remains unsaid.
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Summer dusk…
Not every summer evening arrives in colour.
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Variety is the Spice of Life 