when can I go home
when can I see you
again
cherry blossoms bloom
when I think about
you, friend
I left you behind
when I was afraid
To love

A quick change of weather brought me to stare outside the window
Standing near the porch, I was then surprised to see snow falling
Almost a month when cherry blossoms began to say hello
Here comes a chilling wind and a surprise snowfall in spring
Hearing its sound, a thread of sad memories began to flow
This pushed me back to the hour of pain, strain,  and self-blaming
Worried about the blossoms and  pretty wild flowers in the meadow,
I looked around and saw green grass and birds happily chirping
Oh! the woods smell sweet, snow becomes rains and the little stream flows
And everywhere I turn around, I see hope in everything
Plus who among us would not care, cherish and will not go
To admire a lovely tree where blossoms are hung with snow in spring

Pink flow’rs, blushing cheeks
             A soft kiss to say goodbye
                            Just one perfect dance

A new home in spring,
I come as cherry trees bloom
Spring, a new season.

Forty-eight floors up, a God’s-eye view

a man practices tai-chi on a tired patch of grass
he is measured, beautiful

families rest under new-green trees
in Yoyogi Park this early spring Sunday

Mt. Fuji rises like a myth, fading
to illusion in the gathering smog.



                                                            A few inches can be an impossible sea

                                                            we sit, silently contemplating discord
                                                            and the meaningless reasons for it

                                                            cherry trees paint the city pink
                                                            while faded petals cyclone at our feet

                                                            tears, fleeting as sakura
                                                            bloom and fall.

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.