To the blind man’s hand- Warmth echoes through fingertips. Skin is colorless. Love, hate, fear-all emotion Are simply lines on a face.
To the blind man’s hand- Warmth echoes through fingertips. Skin is colorless. Love, hate, fear-all emotion Are simply lines on a face.
In land of no horizon The future anonymous- Bleak save struggles. Life teeters on jagged edge, Adversity flourishing.
Pathways to insight- Stretching off into the far. Paper, light and air, Stone and earth, world turning round. All laid out in memory.
1) Haiku should be written in three lines of 10-17 syllables total (5-7-5). While Japanese haiku contains 17 stops/syllables, the translation from Japanese to English is difficult and incomplete sometimes. Haibun should contain five lines of roughly 31 syllables (5-7-5-7-7)…
In the spring of life- The peal of bells brings delight. Lotus floats away, Borne on the winds of sorrow. Lost, the sands that pass unseen.
Drops striking the ground like music from the gods. Green erupting, the smell of creosote and clean air. Streets become streams, the clouds veiling the eyes of heaven. All is quiet. All is dark. All is hidden. …
The rain comes down, filling the streets and ditches with water. In the sky above, clouds circle a petulant moon, hiding its face. The chill air belies the summer date, heat following cold. Outside, every plant soaks up as much…
Sitting in the forest, watching ravens fly by, a gateway to another world. All around sit two people in place of one, edges blurred like a charcoal drawing, two souls watching out through the same windows. The smell of water…
I sit in a public park, alone but for everyone. Tame wild ducks move by quietly, seeking shelter for the night. In the distance, the lights glow like shadows, illuminating nothing. Overhead, the dim yellow glow of a streetlight becomes…
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