While the rainstorm moves on, the sky remembers only light. Beneath a rain-washed evening sky, golden sunlight broke through the clouds and illuminated the horizon. Nature seemed content to begin again.
At the End of Day (a Haiku)
Following the rain
Nature is smiling again
She feels not our pain
The rainstorm moved on, the sky remembered only light, and this song seemed a fitting companion to the evening.
Ivor Steven © October 2026
Some poems arrive quickly, while others rest patiently in the drafts. After a quiet wait of a few weeks, this haiku seemed ready to take its place among recent reflections on nature and birds.
Presiding (a Haiku)
Here I calmly be
Overseeing twilight time
The day’s final stand
Today’s haiku is accompanied by Glen Hansard’s beautiful live performance of “Her Mercy”, a song that seemed to share the poem’s quiet patience and reflective spirit.
Ivor Steven © October 2026
My ostentatious orchid is the highlight of my little courtyard.
Undercover Light (a Haiku)
Orchids are thriving
Protected from the sun’s bite
But there’s enough light
VJ’s Fire haiku lit a quiet spark in me last night, and sometime after midnight my own words drifted upward — a sky‑response shaped by the birds I photographed yesterday and the lingering anticipation of Cohen Noir. There’s something about Leonard’s voice that reminds me to look up, to let thoughts rise, and to trust the air to carry them.
VJ – Fire (haiku) – One Woman’s Quest
Words in the Sky (a Haiku)
My essence is sky
Words fly with the birds up high
Beyond prying eyes
And as these sky‑bound words drift toward Cohen Noir, I’m guided again by Leonard’s voice — a reminder to steer my way through the clouds and keep writing beyond prying eyes.
Ivor Steven © September 2026
A small moment in the morning sky… a flutter of colour, a whisper of calm, and a reminder of how lightly the world can move when we pause long enough to notice.
Birds of a Feather (a Haiku)
The black and white birds
Fly happily together
A wingspan apart
A quiet nod to harmony — where every feather, every colour, finds its place.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
The morning sky felt like an open canvas, and the birds rose into it as if painted there — framed by light, archived in motion, and forever just beyond our human reach.
Beyond Reach (a Haiku)
Shadows on the sky
Bird silhouettes hover high
Beyond human reach
A quiet echo of the sky’s fragile beauty
Ivor Steven © August 2026
After days of emotional highs, in the hush of this morning’s light, even a desert flower feels like a gentle breath.
Dessert Flower (a Haiku)
I watch the day age
Even the red cactus wilts
As the sun arcs high
A soft melody to carry the moment forward — a desert flower blooming in sound.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Even far from the shoreline, the inland breeze carries more than wings — the sky still remembers where the journey began.
Drifting Inland (a Haiku)
Four coastal seagulls
Drifting on the inland breeze
Miles away from home
Some journeys begin with a single gust of wind.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
Please Note: All the attached images are photo montages that I have created, and then they were enhanced by Copilot.
A lone spirit lifts through the moon‑washed clouds, moving toward whatever waits beyond the unknown.
The Unknown (a Haiku)
Through the clouds I fly
I’m a spirit of the night
The unknown is mine
The spirit keeps drifting, following the quiet pull of the unknown.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
A small mushroom on the winter ground caught my eye today, leaning toward a thin slice of sun and reminding me how even the smallest things reach for warmth.
Reaching for the Sun (a Haiku)
Sitting on cold ground
Reaching for the winter sun
Spores falling earthward
When the warmth leans in
let the music rise with the winter light.
Ivor Steven © June 2026
