I've another poem to share. Colleen Chesebro invites us to compose a syllabic poem about the changing seasons, and I've chosen to focus on the moon's role.
On Sunday, the New Moon rises. Barely visible it announces spring and with this sense of a new beginning, people often pause and send forth their dreams. I have many, and I suspect you do to - for our beautiful planet, for those who struggle in our streets, for our collective brothers and sisters who fear for their lives, for the sick and the lonely near and wide. A new beginning, for this I pray.
My tanka: