The Return

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The magnitude of oneself,
the hallucinating voices
can overwhelm an altar

Like grinding of gravel into sand
locust deluded by summer
start eating trees
birds lost their songs,
now mere shadows in the horizon

Then you came with your guitar
music and prayers bounce on the walls
repetitional phrases of longing,
a chant of a pilgrim returning
for the first time.

the differences

Unusually warm spring day

I watch
carelessly thrown paper wrapper
tossing in the wind

on the beach
from a distance, laughter
of children playing

I feel a longing
to hear your voice,
look into your eyes

bring back a memory
of “deep orange persimmons
falling from a basket”

little by little
each day that passes
the color fades

One day
I will learn the differences
between Japanese cherry trees

one flowers and one weeps.

note: Today I finished reading The Samurai’s Garden, a relatively old novel, by Gail Tsukiyama.