For me, a Haiku is a 17 syllable verse that captures an image or moment that touches the heart when the reader grasps its meaning.

Some are still a work in progress.

The Haiku is a 
seventeen syllable-verse, 
understoond by the heart.

Depicts a moment
in nature filled with simple
wonderment and awe.  

Perspicacity
Reach into the world of words,
to find clear insight.

Slipping through morning dew,
first blush hues cast,- 
dawn's chorus begins. 

Antiphonal tweets 
robins, warblers, blackbirds sing 
dayspring's symphony. 

The woodland world wakes.   

January sky
Its sheer so clear, so blue. 
Nothing leaves a mark. 

On gradient winds, 
matching a clarion call
Eagles hitch a ride. 

Spring buds pop their heads, 
February trickery-
Winter snaps, not yet!

Loam stirs, breaking free
Roots stretch in fertile earth
March howls for spring's warmth.

Sky looks down on earth
Eyes as dark as a new moon,
Winks in the spring night. 
Loam stirs, breaking free
Roots stretch in fertile earth
March howls for spring's warmth.

Ode to Daffodils
Bordering Mamaw’s cotton field
Beside Momma’s fence
To my backyard
Daffodils.
Posted on February 25, 2022 by Sankara Jayanth
Posted in #HaikuSeed Daily Haiku Prompt

Longing for a sidewalk stroll
along the storefronts of a –
five-and-dime
	boutique
		coffee house
			with friends
 . . .mask less.

Winter folds a tree- 
into a counterfeit death – 
Gray, boney, lifeless.

Cold, still, frosty white
Frozen precipitation 
The glistening sun

Icicle droplets 
Drip amid a frozen field
Robins drink mid-stream.

Kindness ripples when
interjected precisely
and rips through meanness. 

kindness ripples and rips through meanness.

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Summer soybean fields
Winter conifer forests 
Fall, hide from hunters
Spring birthing, a fawn

Winter grants Fall's wish 
for an encore flower dance, 
frost procrastinates.

Indian Summer
Harvest-in, farmer's delight-
Sweet whispers of thanks. 

Romantic at heart
Curious, Cautious, Clever 
Nature's lake builders

Habitat framers
Charming artisan
As busy as a-
beaver (WIP)

Rudbeckia titters 
Roots stretching in fertile earth.
Butterfly frolics

More butterlies play-

Hidden Object
The only reason
I've never been snake-bitten;
I pound when I walk. 

The object I seek
is blatantly obvious.
but it's not a snake. 

 
A trim crimson comb 
Proud strut, surefooted, perched high. 
First to greet the day.
 
Calls the world to wake.
Rises with the morning sun.
Cock-a-doddle-do

Prayer is your weapon. Like the soil loves the tree and gives life to the tree so does prayer nourish your soul. Prayer cradles life whether answered here or there (heaven).