NE63 Haiku

Showers start and stop Golden sunset breaks through grey Mirrors progress made

Air foggy and cool Clock tick tock tick tocks slowly Tired bloated body There’s a strange stillness that comes with a first night shift. Not silence exactly—machines hum, footsteps echo, tasks keep stacking up—but something in the air feels paused, like the world outside has taken a breath and forgotten to let it go. Tonight, the fog has settled in thick and low. It wraps itself around everything, softening edges, muting distance. Even through the windows, you can feel it—cool, heavy, unmoving. It matches the way my mind feels. Not sharp, not clear. Just… there. It’s my first night shift, and time isn’t behaving the way it normally does. The work is steady, demanding even, yet the clock drags its feet. Each minute seems to stretch, as if it’s resisting being counted. Tick, tock. Tick… tock. The rhythm is there, but it feels off-beat, like it’s out of sync with everything else. My body isn’t helping much either. There’s a weight to it tonight. Bloated, sluggish, tired in that deep, quie...

The wind howls near Restless limbs fuel racing thoughts  Sleep eluded for hours Sleep didn’t come easily last night. After the family party, the house finally went quiet, but my body hadn’t caught up. I’d spent most of the evening behind the bar, serving drinks, staying switched on, being sociable — all while staying sober as the designated driver. It’s a strange kind of tiredness, the one where you’re present for everyone else but holding yourself slightly apart. We got to bed much later than usual. I could feel it straight away — restless limbs, a mind that wouldn’t slow. The energy drink I’d had earlier to get through the night was still hanging around longer than I’d hoped, buzzing beneath the surface. Outside, the wind howled close to the house. Inside, sleep slipped just out of reach. Hours passed in fragments rather than rest. This haiku came from that space between exhaustion and wakefulness — when the night won’t let go, and the body keeps the score even after the noise ha...

Rain licks windows Dawn has yet to break morning Ringing in my ear Early morning before the school run has its own kind of calm. The house still, the day not yet asking anything. Rain tapped at the windows while winter held on outside. I’m still fighting off a cold — that low, constant hum in the background — but this morning felt different. Not better exactly, just steadier. Yesterday was a stressful one. Too much noise, too many thoughts. Today feels like a pause after that — a reset before the rhythm of the day begins again. This haiku came from that quiet space. Rain, waiting light, and the small reminders that the body carries even when the world feels momentarily at rest.

"Wake up late, foggy Sunrise wakes before myself Work will have to wait" There is a specific kind of silence that greeted me this morning—the kind that only happens when you realize your alarm went off two hours ago and you slept right through it. For anyone who thrives on a structured start, waking up to find the sun already high in the sky is a jarring way to begin the day. Last night’s sleep was light and unrestorative, leaving me in a state of "brain fog" that felt impossible to shake. The Cost of a Late Start Being two hours late for work is stressful enough, but the real frustration came from the internal collapse of my morning. When you’re playing catch-up from the second you open your eyes, the things that keep you grounded are often the first to go: The Routine: I managed to grab breakfast, but the "essentials" like my breathwork and meditation were sacrificed to the clock. The Mindset: Without that 4-7-8 breathing to anchor me, the GAD (General...