Here

i count the years

story after story

deep-seated feelings

and sincerity

i open a diary

and feel

the four seasons

the love and ambitions

as my heartbeat

accelerates and halts

repeatedly.

Bluestone
speeding like wind
laughter
frozen in time
episodes of warmth
aftertaste like north
it's the very simple
and elegant steps
of bluestone.

Pulling the bow
musical notes catapulted
from the deck of the aircraft carrier
fly far into the distance
a roc flapping its wings
on the crest of a wave
a group of horses
galloping on the grassland
the strings are rigid
the bow is flexible
in between
there's smoke rising
there's the vastness of field
when the sound is just right
the sky calms down
to listen
to the jade
ancient tide.

A beautiful girl
comes and goes
in and out of my dream
looking up at the clouds
recalling her face
even though mountains block
and the city full of fog
my heart is not lost
because
she's on the other side
of the shore.

Green grass decoding
shapes of flowers
it seems there's only
sakura
in the parcel
of time
a gardener
encodes time into petals
and gives them to trees
a planter
planting grains of words
and fragrance of dew
into the fleeting
sand of time.

Moon falls behind hills
solitary shadows
autumn wind
silence
bits of stars
vague and remote
walking amongst
ancient trees
in a courtyard
in the depths
of a temple
the flicker of lamps
the saffron of robes
the sound of wooden fish
the sound of Namo Amitabha is
peace
quiet like a flower, a grass
a wind, a rain
a sand, a stone
a dream, a season.

Light
rain of spring
bringing
a new touch of green
to the barren hills
of the soul
the innominate raindrops
fade away
leaving
people with a
sunny day.