Can it really be…..
That Fuji is capped with snow
while I sit and sweat?
Up I fell into
a flowing sea of green…. just
napping ‘neath an oak.
Green and silver waves
ripple and crash at my feet.
Not the sea! Tall grass!
This weary poet
knows when to only listen….
this evening’s frog song.
Cheery and joyful
raucous and insistent, my
bird bath alarm clock.
Whispy and criss-crossed
first bright blue then dirty grey….
this sky can’t decide.
The glass smooth river
bends ahead and turns troubled….
angry with the rocks.
Timeless and haunting
vast and ever inviting
the sea engulfs me.
Heaven must surely
be like this…. always orange
blossoms fill the air.
In just an instant
a jagged tear in the sky
made the dark night day.
In quiet moonlight
lotus petals floating by
in serenity.
Dancing butterflies
tiptoeing from buttercup
to bright buttercup.
This old owl and I
just can’t seem to figure out
who’s been waking whom.
This meadow chorus
alive with wildflowers….
a sweet symphony.
Tanka
Fat guardian frog
perched on moss carpeted rocks,
intently watching
a rainbow-winged dragon fly,
leaps…. only to split the moon.