Thursday, May 09, 2013

The Strand

maybe it is time
to write something
besides haiku

haiku mirrors the rhythm
of my slowest breath…

it is the poetry of now
and the remembrance of now,
the reflection of no-shadows thrown
on a noh-journey in
this noh-home I call home.

I awaken writing,
my transition from sleepful dreaminess
to dreaming wakefulness
is a cutting place,
a kireji,
a fulcrum balancing the juxtaposition
of everywhen with everynow
of everywhere with everyhere.

I will ever say,
writing on the sand
of the strand between…