childhood
ringed by mountains —
flatlands terrify
***
‘from whence
cometh my strength?’ —
the mountains
***
my dad’s painting
Mount Roland blue and craggy —
our favourite
***
in Peru
mountains are deities —
I lift up mine eyes
***
‘cloud catcher’
our local mountain
caught me too
***
four years
under The Pinnacle —
guardian
All photos mine.
My response to the latest NaHaiWriMo prompt. Later: NaHaiWriMo was back in February, but I'm sharing this (in June) with Poets and Storytellers United, for Friday Writings #180: Stubborn About the Small Things.
Mountains are not small, LOL, but haiku are! Anyway, I'm stubborn in my love for mountains and my dislike of flat country. A friend who was brought up on the plains always loved flat country dearly; others have told me they feel 'hemmed in' when surrounded by mountains. But I grew up that way, and experience it as an opening up to the vastness above, and a reassurance of safety. I'm ecstatic to be living surrounded by mountains again in my old age.
(I'm also stubborn in the belief that 5-7-5 syllables is the least important rule of haiku – and in fact, for English-language haiku, is not a rule at all.)
