Moon rising

Full Moon

The moon glows the same:
  it is the drifting cloud forms
  make it seem to change.

- Matsuo Basho

The next day - silver in the sky, shimmering silver below.

Resting place

On a journey, ill:
my dream goes wandering
over withered fields
- Basho

My old body:
a drop of dew grown
heavy at the leaf tip
- Kiba, 19th century

Empty-handed I entered the world
Barefoot I leave it.
My coming, my going —
Two simple happenings
That got entangled.
- Zen master Kozan Ichikyo, 1360



Zen and the poetry of death

Brown on brown

Junonia lemonias, the lemon pansy

Crunching dry leaves of summer,
eyes staring at me,
a basking pansy did I come across.

Urban musings

The days rush and blur.

Pause.
My garden blooms fade even before I get to know them.

Sentinels

As dusk descends, the sentinels of solitude arrive.
I do not fear them.

The Allamanda

The vine draws my eye upwards

And my heart follows

Looking down at passers by

Allamanda blanchetii

Life

The Desert Rose clings on.
All is not lost to the storm.