A lone bird rising into the morning sky reminds us that every flight begins the same way — meeting the wind, opening our wings, and trusting the air to hold us.
Learning to Fly (a Senryu)
How to fly away
Face the wind and spread your wings
Leap and trust yourself
And sometimes, in the lift between fear and hope, we discover the wings we didn’t know we had.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
Last evening’s twilight brought two distant birds gliding across the sky — a quiet moment I thought little of at the time. But this morning, Gina’s birthday bundle arrived from Kuala Lumpur, carrying its own warmth across the miles. Suddenly those birds felt like a gentle reflection of our long friendship: separated by distance, yet always moving within the same sky. From that pairing of twilight wings and Gina’s thoughtful bundle, this three‑couplet poem emerged — three small waves of acknowledgement, connection, and renewal.
Gina’s response: “This is a very special poem — yes, please post it; too beautiful to be kept hidden. Love the second stanza about the stars.” — Gina
Distant Stars — A Poem for Gina
Long grey clouds may separate our friendship,
but distance is not part of the script.
We endearingly continue to wave from afar,
like a constellation’s pair of outlying stars.
Luminously looking forward to our next meeting,
and tenderly renewing our curriculum vitae greetings
A fitting accompaniment — Angus & Julia Stone’s “Celestial Bodies,” a live performance with the same quiet, sky‑bound warmth that inspired this poem.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
This Tanka began with a small moment of irony. While sheltering from the cold and waiting for the weather to clear, I spotted a piece of street art near the café — the words “Sunsets in Zadar” painted across a brick wall. I noticed straight away that it carried a perfect five‑syllable rhythm, an ideal opening line for a Haiku or Tanka. From that simple spark, the poem grew into a quiet reflection spoken from the sun itself, reaching across horizons with its global glow.
Zadar Sunsets (a Tanka)
Sunsets in Zadar
I’m nowhere near Croatia
But here within view
Above your hill’s horizon
My global glow finds your land
A final touch of light to end the moment — a sunset song to accompany the sun’s own words, drifting across horizons just as the poem does.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
In this solitary silhouette, I felt the sky fold back into its deeper self — a quiet reminder that infinity is not a distant realm but a shift in perception. Darkness becomes brightness when seen in reverse, and even the faintest glow can reveal the universe’s hidden architecture. These three captures from my afternoon walk opened that doorway, and as I sat with them at the café, the poem below arrived in a small explosion of insight — a moment where inverted light found its voice.
Into the Blue
I’m unravelling my way
From out of the grey
And back into the blue
For an unobstructed view
Of the unfettered universe
Where I can observe light in reverse
I perceive the panorama of infinity’s darkness
To be a cosmic aurora of brightness —
Not a mere perception of blackness
But a transparent glow of hopefulness
Two visions of blue — one rising from the depths, one bursting into joy — each reflecting a different facet of the journey from grey to light. Together they complete the sky the poem began.
“And so the sky sings twice.”
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
This poem grew from two separate comments I left on Nancy’s site, written almost four weeks apart. Different days, different moods — yet when I revisited them, they seemed to lean toward one another and form a cohesive whole.
Stanzas 1 and 2 came from La Casa Azzurra – The Elephant’s Trunk
and stanzas 3, 4, and 5 from What’s Left Behind – The Elephant’s Trunk
Fresh shoes for familiar paths — proof enough that this man plans on walking a little further yet.
Over at Weekly Prompts, the weekend challenge is the word “Anxiety”. To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here
This Morning, or This Anxious Man
I woke up this morning,
which is always a good thing —
with blue surrounding my head,
quietly filtering through the blinds
from dawn’s levitating, bright blue sky.
I do not need to ask why
the tranquil colour blue
serendipitously keeps me flying high.
I am who I am.
I’m an old man,
and I do the best I can.
My dreamworld plan
is out of my hands.
I remember how it all began,
and here I am —
between Cannes and scans,
still walking this land.
For the fragments that find each other, the blue mornings, the old roads, and the man who keeps trusting the day ahead.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
This afternoon’s sky gifted me a flock of silhouettes — pigeons rising and circling through the light as if carrying the world’s weight on their wings. Their quiet resilience inspired the Tanka below, a small reflection on the lives caught beneath the shadows of conflict.
Pigeons of the World (a Tanka)
Here under the sun
I am not the only one
Being overrun
By the world’s greedy hired guns
Who’s minding our war torn sons?
And still the sky remembers what we forget — even the pigeons know the rise and fall of empires.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “A Global Suntan,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> A Global Suntan – Coffee House Writers
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Until Eyes Hear Sound
Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound
Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)
Perceptions:
Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)
Tullawalla:
Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books
OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.
Ivor Steven © July 2026
This afternoon I found myself at the calm centre of things — winter draped itself lightly over the café, letting the sunshine linger just long enough for a quiet moment to unfold.
Winter Sunshine
I’m on the axis of my universe,
here in the middle of our cafe,
at the centre of this old town —
it’s our time to relax and calm down.
We’re midway beneath winter’s hemline;
the wind is cold, but the day is fine.
The larks are enjoying the sunshine,
and I’m sipping a glass of red wine.
As the winter light faded and the sunshine slipped away, the music left its own warm shadow behind.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
Please note: All the images are mine and then sharpened and enhanced by Copilot.
Under the full moon’s watch, the Corellas turn the late afternoon sky into a jubilant parade.
The Full Moon and the Corellas (a Tanka)
I hear them squawking
As they fly through my blue sky
Those white Corellas
May look very elegant
But they sound like elephants
As a small tribute to Glen Hansard, whose music has long travelled beside me — a voice that rose and broke like birds in the late‑afternoon sky — here is his unforgettable performance of Bird of Sorrow.
Ivor Steven © August 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 