Twelve doors. Past; Present.
I stand on the precipice:
Mother Nature's Clock.
It's difficult not to ponder whether there isn't yet some unknown force behind what falls from the sky and catches our eye. Water in Spring. Ice in Summer. Would any of us be surprised to find ourselves catching rainbows in Winter. Or butterfly wings in Autumn? Perhaps it's just imagined memories, fevered childhood dreams of the fertile mind. For who didn't ever close their eyes as March spilled into April and wonder if the cold winds might never end, that this might be the year the world finally falls apart. Only to be surprised by the flowers rising up from the Earth.
--Kevin Hodgson, for GloPoWriMo 2017 (Global Poetry Writing Month)
(The haibun is the combination of two poems: a prose poem and haiku. The form was popularized by the 17th century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. Both the prose poem and haiku typically communicate with each other, though poets employ different strategies for this communication—some doing so subtly, while others are more direct. -- Writer's Digest)