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The rustle of summer

Devil's ivy grows. Geckos rustle through thick greens, summer noon alive. Written for picture prompt challenge : Haiku Frida...

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Joy of being alive

Every time I breathe,
Someone somewhere breathes his last.
Each waking moment,
Hallowed with being alive.
This life is such a treasure.


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6 comments:

  1. UnknownOctober 8, 2015 at 9:57 AM

    Simple and reverent. I like the balance created by the repetition: breathe/breathes and alive/life.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Whispering ThoughtsOctober 8, 2015 at 10:03 AM

      Thank you. The fact that you called it reverent made my day.

      Delete
  2. ChristineOctober 8, 2015 at 11:59 AM

    Lovely little tanka! And for me, this is the kind of revelation that comes upon us suddenly, unexpectedly, almost between breaths. You encapsulated it nicely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Whispering ThoughtsOctober 8, 2015 at 12:17 PM

      Thank you so much Christine for such encouraging words

      Delete
  3. Sumana KhanOctober 8, 2015 at 9:22 PM

    Wow ruby! Such an effervescent balance of life and death...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Whispering ThoughtsOctober 9, 2015 at 9:09 AM

      Thank you Sumana. It is so heartening to hear your encouraging words.

      Delete

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.

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