Let’s write our haibun that references the heart, in whatever context that you conceive. For those new to haibun, the form consists of one to a few paragraphs of prose—usually written in the present tense—that evoke an experience and are often non-fictional/autobiographical. They may be preceded or followed by one or more haiku—nature-based, using a seasonal image—that complement without directly repeating what the prose stated.
When animals hibernate in the winter, their hearts slow to a barest minimum for sustaining life. I often imagine frogs at the bottom of a pond or chipmunks in channels below the ground living life as a faint whisper one soft infrequent heartbeat at a time. In those long pauses is a mysterious hushed eternity that leads to an electrical instant of reclaiming life. Almost dead…ALIVE…almost dead...ALIVE…
Some say winter is a time of silence, of nothingness. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Can you hear it? Winter is a thrumming pause when Mother Nature’s life-pulse is the loudest to those persevering toward the Spring.
“Hush now” winter wind,
Hasten life to fill the void.
Her whispered rhythm.