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Denel Kessler Jan 2016
Awake to a slowly beating drum
morning meditation drifting up the hill
in the garden, tiny birds add sweet highs
tuneless ravens, the bass undertone
trees whisper ancient lyrics
on the passing breeze.

We stroll the Path of Philosophy
through massive wooden gates
into carefully sculpted gardens
exploring the endless number
of temples dotting Kyoto
each more lovely than the last.

Quiet Nanzen-Ji
is where I feel the most
following worship worn
steps to a cave-shrine
heady with wet
and incense

we are purified
by waterfall spray
before returning
the way we came
voices hushed
buoyed by eternity’s hand.

The hotel lobby is filled
with crimson and saffron
glistening heads and broad smiles
from monks gathered there
we bow to each other and are one
may it never be forgotten

revelers arrive by busload
for hanami, cherry blossom viewing
beneath a revered tree
decked out in pink splendor  
lit from below to radiate
surreal, internal light

we sample Kobe yakitori
soba and corn
grilled over open flame
as we flow
through the smiling
celebratory crowd

we savor
what is transitory
as sparks
and blossoms whirl
settling on
our hair and skin.
Kyoto is just one of those magical places...
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2015
Raindrops marking points
On waves breaking beyond shores
So faint our affair
SøułSurvivør Mar 2015
HAIKU


*
wrinkled mountain sits
old trees bow down in respect
even river is slow!
From the ancient to the transitory


/\^/\/\^
Tuesday Pixie Feb 2015
A turtle shrinks into its shell
Then shrivels,
Grape to raisin,
Sun's warning echoing:
"Danger, danger, danger!"
As river moves from mountain to ocean
The golden arc across the sky
Soon is only a faint glow on faraway rock
- Yet it will come again
To shout it's harrowing cry
And shrink and shrivel
And round again, again, again
'Til Kingdom come
      'Til salvation
             'Til death do us unto part
Jayanta May 2014
In the morning everything become blushing
With splendid light and reflection!
In the afternoon started to be used up
In the evening step towards transitory gloomy!
In the night become woozily and
Dream to blush again in the next morning!
Ralph Albors May 2014
I never quite got
that you and I
were transitory.

— The End —