The pine tree of Shiogoshi
Trickles all night long
Shiny drops of moonlight.

How admirable!
to see lightning and not think
    life is fleeting.

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die

Spring:
A hill without a name
Veiled in morning mist.

The beginning of autumn:
Sea and emerald paddy
Both the same green.

The winds of autumn
Blow: yet still green
The chestnut husks.

A flash of lightning:
Into the gloom
Goes the heron's cry.

A field of cotton--
as if the moon
    had flowered.

The summer grasses
All that remains
Of brave soldiers dreams

The last few months were a mess
and I did not know how to handle life at this point
i was out of mind
i was stressed out
i had no energy
but most of all i was scared of the changes

2018 was a very strange year and i would have never imagined it like this
did not expect this much pain
did not expect this much tragedy and horrors

i stopped writing.
i did not try it any longer
a few small poems but nothing too much
the moment i stopped writing
the moment my heart let go of this need
i was filled with an unknowing void
it claimed my heart and soul
and i let it pass
oh, how stupid i was

now
i got tickled by a small idea in my head
something to write
to tell
to share
i sat infront of my laptop
and suddenly it hit me
i started shaking
i was scared of writing

i realized
i was scared of writing because when i write
i am the most honest to myself