The beautiful Contemporary Haibun Online #cho 21.3 is online and I am delighted to have a #haibun featured.
Grateful to dear Terri Hale French, Editor for her kind guidance, acceptance & publication. The journal is filled with literary gems and lovely haiga. Link to the journal:
https://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/table-of-contents-21-3/
Contemporary Haibun Online 21.2, August 2025 issue is online.
Grateful to Ron C. Moss. editor for Haiga for including my “twilight” Haiga in the gallery.
Congratulations to all featured poets in the beautiful journal.
Contemporary Haibun Online 21.1 April 2025 issue is online.
Grateful to Ron Moss, editor for #Haiga for including my sunset Haiga in the gallery.
The beautiful Contemporary Haibun Online #cho 20.3 is online and I am delighted to have a small #haibun featured – Fading Signals.
Grateful to dear Terri Hale French, Guest Editor for the acceptance & publication.
Congratulations to all featured #poets.
Contemporary Haibun Online 19.3 #cho is online and I am delighted to have a #tankaprose featured- The Miracle of Flight”. Two #Haiga in collaboration with dear Billie Dee are also included in the Haiga Gallery. The photos clicked by me are of Sukhna Lake, Chandigarh and enhancing them are the haiku are penned by Billie.
Grateful to Tish Davis, Editor, Tanka Prose for the acceptance and guidance.
Thanks to Ron Moss for the acceptance of our Haiga.
Congratulations to all featured poets.
https ://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/cho19-3-table-of-contents/neena-singh-the-miracle-of-flight/
The Miracle of Flight
It’s a hot summer morning and as I water the plants in the garden I see some movement behind a flowerpot. I move closer, two sharp eyes and a curved beak peer—a baby hawk! The bird appears injured as one wing is stretched out. The closer I move, the more it tries to hop behind the row of pots.
I call my birding friends for advice and follow their instructions:
“Just let it be…it will fly away”;
“keep a piece of raw meat and some water near it,“
“keep a boiled egg near it”.
Bending low, I whisper—“fly baby, you are meant to soar in the sky”. It looks at me with its piercing eyes and flaps its wing, as if it understands.
surprise guest
behind a flowerpot . . .
the grace and wisdom
in its bright eyes
hold me captive
Contemporary Haibun Online #cho 19.2 is online and I am delighted to have a small haibun featured – Being Mortal.
Grateful to Peter Newton, Guest Editor for the acceptance & publication.
Being Mortal
My 6-year-old grandson says “Daadi,* I will marry at 21. How old will you be then?”
“81” I reply, looking through my spectacles at his bright eyes.
“Will you be alive?”
“Well, that’s a tough question to answer, for no one knows when the call comes.”
“Who calls us Daadi—is it God?”
“Probably,” a trifle unsure, I respond.
“I wish I were God” he smiles.
young bamboo
my hand reaches
to touch the green
Contemporary Haibun Online, Issue 19.1 is out and it features my haibun “Birding”. Thanks to my birding friends Harmeet & Jatinder Vijh.
Grateful to Rich Youmans, Editor for the guidance & publication.
Congratulations to all featured poets.
Birding
Each day we are forgotten by ourselves
through ourselves,
For we do not believe, in who we are.
~ Mimi Novic, The Silence Between the Sighs
Away from the hustle-bustle of city life and traffic, my friend and I walk on the dirt path to the village pond. A binocular and a powerful camera rest on my friend’s shoulder.
Water chestnuts grow thick and lush, coloring the pondwater forest green. I strain to see through the fog. Far off, white-breasted kingfisher perches on a boulder, perhaps waiting for sunshine. My friend picks up her camera.
I wait empty-handed, the song deep inside me.
winter molting the flap of new-found wings
Delighted to have my haibun featured in the lovely Contemporary Haibun Online journal (cho), issue 18.3.
So very grateful to dear Terri Hale French, Haibun Editor for her guidance & acceptance. Thanks to Rich Youmans, Editor for the publication.
Rewilding
During the pandemic, we are confined to our homes for many days due to lockdown restrictions. The streets are deserted, with little traffic. I go to the terrace to watch squirrels that nest at the top of the evergreen tree in the garden and to converse with the koel, bulbuls and pigeons that visit. Watching the sunrise and sunset colouring the sky and the leisurely movement of clouds to a soundtrack of birdsong becomes a joyful ritual.
One day around sunset, a fawn wanders onto the street from the neighbouring forest. Maybe the silence of the usually noisy city leads him to venture here. I am reminded of the Disney world of Bambi and rush down the staircase to view the scene more closely and also to see that he is protected from stray dogs. By the time I get to the street, the fawn has disappeared. Where could he have vanished? Was it a mirage caused by the deepening dusk?
Disappointed, I come back inside and what do I see? The lovely Bambi and my dog, Rumi, sitting in the garden, gently licking each other like old friends.
first drops. . .
animals of the forest
safe in Noah’s Ark