The old people sing

Haiku of fulfillment

Old people hang out
in churches and in temples;
watching and waiting.

Something might happen.
You never know, it might be
the day God appears.

Righteous and devout,
old Simeon was patient;
he would see the Christ.

His words erupted!
This child, he would be the one;
light and salvation!

The old man blessed them.
It is enough, I’ve seen him
Let me go now, God.

He spoke to Mary.
There will arise much turmoil
on the road to peace.

Anna, the prophet,
saw the child, raised her old voice,
and joined in the song.

Wisdom and insight
come not just with the years,
but with openness.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017.

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He came, touched by God.

Haiku for those who dare to hope

He came, touched by God,
sharing human pain and death;
brushing us with love.

The aching sadness.
He’s gone, along with our hopes.
Can life endure death?

The promise of life,
our hearts strong with excitement,
crashing to the earth.

We weep for ourselves
as we shed our tears for him;
lifeless in the tomb.

Is anything left
from the storehouse of his life?
Was it for nothing?

A few words remain
from his wisdom and stories;
let us remember.

Surely not the end!
Darkness, hatred and fear
must never prevail.

Dawn’s radiant light
confronts insistent darkness;
will it overcome?

We have heard rumours,
we want to believe they’re true,
that somehow he lives.

Go on, look within
for the resurrection glow;
incandescent love.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017

Here in Jericho

Haiku of generosity

Here in Jericho,
where the famed battle was fought,
other contests rage.

The tax-collector
climbs a sycamore’s branches
for a better view.

The teacher invites
himself to the sinner’s house;
he should know better.

The mean in spirit
call out generosity
shown to the worthless.

To this house: grace, hope,
salvation and life. He, too,
is a child of God.

The Son of Man came
to seek out those who struggle,
to befriend the lost.

© Ken Rookes 2016

 

and here’s a golden oldie; it can be found here.

Community gardens haiku

Vigorous broad bean
growing tall, towards the sky;
someone let Jack know.

Recycled fences
divide earnest allotments,
uniting people.

Weeds the enemy,
compost and mulch our friends;
here is abundance.

A break from the rain;
the bees are out and about.
Fertility’s kiss.

Delicate blossom
or coarse white broad bean flower;
the bee doesn’t care.

Humble silverbeet
claims its garden corner place
and shines from the sun.

 

© Ken Rookes 2016

My name is Legion

Legion were my hauntings,
and numerous the years of their torments.
Great was my nakedness,
and multiple the chains and shackles
that lay rusting among the weeds,
failed and broken.
Vast was my hopelessness,
deep my despair,
and terrible the fear
evoked by my unholy presence.
Many were my dwellings
among the tombs outside the city.
Considering myself dead,
I was at home there;
and at the same time, lost.

Manifold were the blessings
from the hand of the Galilean;
who arrived, uninvited,
at this desolate place,
to speak his words of healing,
hope,
Liberty and life.
They sent him away;
I would have gone with him.
“Return to your people,”
he told me. “Be a living declaration
of the wonders of God.”

I did as he said.
My heart,
however,
followed him to Jerusalem.

© Ken Rookes 2016

Now that day was a Sabbath

A haiku sequence

In Jerusalem
by the Sheep Gate; see, a pool
with five porticoes.

Beth-Zatha by name.
There the invalids gather,
waiting for a sign.

When the angel stirs
the water, the race begins;
to claim the healing.

This man cannot walk;
he will never enter first.
He lies there, hoping.

It was a Sabbath
when Jesus came to that place;
breaking all the rules.

 

© Ken Rookes 2016

Anzac Day

Day of shining medals.
With each marching step
they
clink solemnly the nation’s gratitude
upon proud chests.

There are medals for peace-keepers, too.
Rightly so;
but only a few for peace-makers.

The peace-makers press on determinedly,
undaunted,
undecorated
and
undisturbed.

 

© Ken Rookes 2016