Angel Haiku from the Blue book

doors open, doors close,
all around us,
worlds are being born.

.

.

.

.

leaves fall
stars abide
I wonder if it will ever
be true.

.
.
.
.

The road is even
pegs hang the clothes up
down comes the rain.
.
.
.
.
Trees straddle
the mountain
like green corn.
.
.
.
.

My pillow
holds worlds,
in its
sway.

.
.
.
.
the force enters
and I awake,
the flower.

.
.
.
.

on a wave
I ride,
to the sun
my heart ,
centred.

.
.
.
.

radiant hues
a groundless swell.
sun’s beckoning,
Encounter.

.
.
.
.

A glimpse
A return.
A maze.

.
.
.
.

I search,

for eyes,
meaning,
Delight,

Electricity.

.
.
.
.

Glamour,
and peaches
Like ice-cream
Befuddle.

.
.
.
.

Eventually,
all things,
are,

addled.