Haikus on Meaning (and a Hamster)

Once there was a time

This year, in fact, when I found

True joy in writing,

When it wasn’t work,

When it didn’t feel like I was

Losing a battle.

And there were shamans

And magical barbershop

Quartet vocalists,

And a girl, Anna,

With a head full of questions

And a lewd hamster

Who spent her long nights

Talking to an apple pie

About the world’s ills.

What happened to that

Me, who wrote only for fun?

Who made people laugh

Not because she felt

She was supposed to do so,

But cause she wanted?

What happened to the

Child with her odd stories

And her tall passion?

What have I become,

But a husk of that mystic,

A joyless old shell?

If there is a hope

For me yet, it lies hidden

From my current view,

Perhaps off waiting

For me to let go

Of these false notions of life,

Illusions of success,

The things adults told

Me when I was young enough

To believe their words,

Back when I was young enough

To forget life’s point.

But maybe, maybe

I am supposed to learn what

My novel has to

Teach me and the world:

Something of time eternal

Of nature, fleeting,

That we are here now

For the shortest of moments

To experience

The rush of beauty

The flash of impermanence,

The magic of love;

But for the sake of

Order and duality,

Also hate and pain,

Fear, hopelessness,

Regret and old resentment

Despair, anger,

And nostalgia,

The suffering that comes when

We are far from home.




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