I wish to thank Mary for a challenging and very interesting prompt. An exercise to approach and view, create and review the seven stages of man/woman – according to Shakespeare. Though, to be made uniquely your own, to be done here through haibun. Shared at dVerse Poets Pub “It’s About Time.”
The Seven Stages
Soul
Babe
Youth
Young
Middle Aged
Old
Elderly
Haibun
I have long believed that we started out as soul. We enter the womb and begin changing from all soul to souled flesh and bone. As the balance changes from soul to flesh and blood we are ready to enter the world.
soul like autumn wind
worlds away another galaxy
milkweed pods open
Haibun
A babe is born with cries so self centered and coos so sweet. There is much difference between selfish and self-centered. The new born knows nothing but its own center. Selfish is something that is done from another stage of life. Exploring everything within and without is now the focus. The best thing that one can do is put it in ones mouth.
pod bursts exploding
seeds travel many places
food for chickadees
Haibun
Youthfulness meant playing in the sun, looking for frogs, going to school, building a fort. There was a time when this was innocence before we made it a competition. Today youth is a competition whether in football, as a cheerleader, skiing or just for better grades. Youth was now. Today it is tomorrow.
bananas hanging
from a tree green yellow brown
picked eaten gone
Haibun
They say: “Ah to be young again.” I don’t know why, I surely do not wish to raise children again. I know the young have no time, with kids going here and there in an endless stream of activities. Work while not at home, an arduous balancing act of multi tasking. No time for oneself, a hot bath once a small thing now such a luxury.
caterpillar crawling
tomorrow a butterfly
metamorphosis
Haibun
Middle age still a squall, a proving ground for some. Onward and upwards, will you ever get there, is enough ever enough? So little time to become, become what or whom?
basho traveled far
issa laughed much with life
buson painted life
Haibun
On being old; the body falters. At first an embarrassment, then an annoyance, then who cares? You roll with the punches. Everything surrounding you becomes at once more beautiful and at once more deadly. Many are glad for life. Many are glad for age.
son helping his father
taking his arm walking uphill
who is the father who the son
Haibun
Now elderly, we are getting closer to soul again, closer again to God as our flesh dries and our bones crack. It can be painful but welcome. Have we yet acquired the wisdom of a lifetime? For wisdom is all that we have to pass on to those who come after; wisdom the teachings on how to live with more ease.
like the drying grape
dropping to the ground juicy
sweet new wine to drink
DISCLAIMER – no use of a kigo in any of these seven haiku.
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