You cut the lemon
The tree cries and so do I
Was it worth the hurt?
I squeeze your cold hand
Juice runs slowly down my arm
It burns at the cut
The knife was so sharp
But I still made lemonade
You sweetened it all
Under the tall tree
I sit and look at the sky
It is yellow now
The butterflies laugh
Dancing on flowers with you
A lemonade dance
Since Jennae stole my words about how your haikus made me feel, I can't stop wondering where such a vast fountain of wisdom and beauty could possibly have come from... where is it springing from, so gracefully? Oh, I see... from your awesomely precious, big, open, sweet, powerful, magic, heavenly, divine heart. You, cutting a lemon with a sharp knife... the lemon’s tears melting into nectar... goddesses' nectar. You are that...🙏... divine
The potency of each haiku feels like the intense taste of a single drop of lemon juice. I love how they evolve, weaving and dancing together. This metamorphosis of something cold, sour and painful into something sweet, expansive and joyful. It feels like swimming through all the shades of yellow, and redefining how each is experienced. So superb my beautiful friend 🍋