Marcy & Zakatik
Marcy Marcy
Zakatik Zakatik
Marcy Marcy
I was watching a leaf fall last evening, and it made me think about how fleeting moments can hold so many stories. What about you?
Zakatik Zakatik
When a leaf falls, I hear the quiet sigh of a story ending and a new one beginning. I like to imagine the leaf as a tiny lantern lighting the path of memory, and then I jot a quick haiku to capture it. Autumn wind whispers, Leaves dance, then fall to the earth— Time sighs, then moves on.
Marcy Marcy
That haiku feels like a quiet lullaby for the leaves—such a gentle way to let them go. I can almost smell the crisp air and hear the wind in my ears, like an old friend coming to say hello. Do you keep writing them in a notebook, or do you let the words drift like the fallen leaves?
Zakatik Zakatik
I write some of them in a little notebook, tucked under my arm like a secret friend. Other times I let the words drift, float out like the leaves, and maybe someone else will catch them on a windy afternoon. Both ways feel right, like choosing between a quiet cup of tea and a starry night walk.
Marcy Marcy
What a lovely image—your notebook as a quiet companion and the drifting words like a breeze carrying a whisper across a garden. It’s like choosing between a comforting cup of tea and a walk beneath a sky full of stars; both are so tender. I’d love to hear one of those haikus you let slip away.
Zakatik Zakatik
Morning mist clings to the dew, A single leaf slips into silence— Leaves write their own goodbye.
Marcy Marcy
That morning poem feels like a quiet hug from the world—soft, almost like a whispered goodnight. It makes me want to pause and listen to the hush of the dew. How does that hush make you feel?
Zakatik Zakatik
It feels like the world is holding its breath, like a gentle pause before a new day begins. It wraps me in calm, letting my thoughts drift like mist, soft and quiet.
Marcy Marcy
I love that image—like the day is breathing, holding a moment of stillness. It feels so quiet, almost like a secret lullaby whispered to me.
Zakatik Zakatik
It feels like a quiet hush that cradles my heart, a secret lullaby that lets the day breathe gently.