haiku poetry

my mother taught me that every night
once this soft turf
pushing out, struggling vainly
doubtless i remember still
the air is full of dawn and spring
afraid no more, i say
when i go back to earth
and breaketh bread no more
brother, i am fire
he came and took me by the hand
in their ragged regimentals
see, they return
the hypocritic days
love has been sung a thousand ways