If I saw a crooked man,
Staggering down the street,
And every now and then,
He has to regain his feet;
Would I be right to say
He’s had too much to drink?
Or should I not judge like that
Much further I should think?

If I saw a shadow then,
Lurking behind a tree,
Could I conclude somehow,
The shadow must be a he?
Or maybe I could be wrong,
The form behind the tree,
Is possible it’s not a man,
The shadow may be a she.

If I were sleeping and I heard,
A gunshot in a house,
Could I think someone’s been shot,
For no one shoots a mouse?
Or could it be that even,
If I had heard a scream,
There was really nothing wrong,
It was just a simple dream.

It’s so easy to conclude,
That white is always white,
And black is always black,
But is this always right?
We cannot always believe,
Our faithful ears and eyes,
Will always tell the truth,
And never tell us lies.

I watch the softly shimmering flame,
feeling its soothing charm transport me,
into the subconscious of myself,
where my thoughts and I become the same;

Then I analyse my wrongs and rights,
all the faults encountered in past days,
when sanity and reasons don't lie,
to raise my thoughts to healthier heights;

Alone I sit, no one calls my name,
in the latest hour of the night,
to watch my friendly candid candle,
and to bond with its flickering flame.

“Two late” are two fateful words,
Dreadful to the eyes and ears,
For these little simple words,
Erase smiles and start the tears.

Rockets skywards bound
Exploding colours and sound
Joyous fun all round

Sacred mountain top
Home of the Goddess Sengen
Are spirits around

Are trees shivering
For snow is covering them
Icicles are cute

It is always disconcerting,
when one hears a person,
who is finding fault with another,
has the very same fault too,
like the cliché of the ***
calling the kettle black.
somehow one can notice others
but not notice oneself;
So before we criticise,
it is wiser to first take stock
of ourselves, and see if we have
the same falling block.