Think

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Synesthesia

Snow whispering down
All day long,
Earth has vanished
Leaving only sky

A cuckoo calls
And suddenly...
The bamboo grove
Lighted by moonbeams

Unknowingly he
Guided us
Over pathless hills
With wisps of hay

In my small village
Even the flies
Aren't afraid
To bite a big man

Even I who have
No lover...
I love this time
Of new kimonos

Hello! Light the fire!
I'll bring inside
A lovely
Bright ball of snow!

Gazing at falling
Petals,
A baby almost
Looks like a Buddha

At last, when her song
Is still
The goddess becomes
A small green bird

A wind-bell tinkling,
Hushed in the noon sun
Is now
A shelter for bees

In a wayside shrine,
A hungry owl
Hoots and hides,
So bright is the moon!

Hop out of my way
And allow me please
To plant bamboos,
Mr. Toad!

As she washes rice,
Her smiling face
Is briefly
Lit by firefly

A snowy mountain
Echoes in the
Jeweled eyes
Of a dragonfly

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