Rested well.

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My body simply let go, came back down to earth, and eased into a relaxed position.  Sleep was as wonderful as I have known it for... weeks.  Sensual dreams.  Just... remembering women who have carried me over the line, at times.  Not necessarily lovers, though not excluding those, simply not focused on that part of my relationship with women.  Of course, any relationship with a woman is bitter-sweet.  I'm not sure if they, or we, can help it.  There is better and worse bitter-sweet though.  These bumps in the night were of the better forms, as when nurses or women nursing me back to health are well remembered, or other tending that women can bring.  Healing through the night, in memories, with women.  Of course there is always the element of their nature, the promise of it in general, that can lead a man back from a precipice.

I can't be sure when I went to bed.  perhaps around 22:00?  Plus or minus an hour, more?  I woke at 4:00.  A bit before but I took my time climbing out of bed.  I had no need to take time.  I realized how early it was and was giving any aspect of my body, mind, and spirit and opportunity to do a deeper check and veto the process if that was deemed wise.  Obviously, waking wasn't an issue.  It is a good day, so far.

light emanating

from the darkness? winter fog;

wearing sunglasses

Oh, right.  Yesterday, when first heading out, and then in the final miles home, the fog was close.  Not so close that driving was an issue, just enough that the phenomena of the fog, with the snow, and with the sun attempting to burn through, made for a very strange sort of event.  I desperately needed my sunglasses in spite of it being rather dark in one sense.  This isn't the haiku I crafted, or even recrafted, since the event and in my sleep, but it will do.  I can't remember the best.  If I do I may write it.

Yes, reading the book on haiku is returning my interest.  Am I learning from the masters?  In some sense, perhaps.  Translation destroys the meters, though that isn't all bad.  It leaves one with the essence, expecting the mind to find or allow for the form.  Or even suggest that form is not the whole or priority?  There is some such notions waiting to be itched by reason or art.  The best advice I read was that haiku is meant to announce the uncommon using the common, or simple.  Paraphrased, and could be taken many ways, if I took it literally and that seems to be panning out by the author of that notion's work.

Oh... decided to get the exact quote by Yosa Buson, when asked if there was a secret to haiku, he suggested "Yes, use the commonplace to escape the commonplace."  Then asked if there was a secret to learning how to do this, he said, "Yes, read Chinese poetry."  ~  Now, I might have enough of an idea of some things to be dangerous.  The interesting thing about how the Chinese write, is that it is based on the poetic to start.  So poetry in a poetic language?  Then again, that was probably a very specific poetry from a certain period or periods for China.  Still, the notions have gone into the hopper and will produce in time.

Right.  I guess I am just saying one is feeding another which is flowing ever to the sea.  So, haiku may be back on the menu, if just as an additive to a post from time to time.  Maybe daily, maybe weekly, though I am hoping to work a few or more in a week.  Why?  One good haiku can say more than a thousand words, more than a picture.  Though... perhaps adding a picture, too, could create a whole novel?  I'll find out, perhaps, if you will have to be the judge.

Later.