A buzz saw crumbles sawdust
Heard not seen
Three brown alder leaves,
Dangle out of season
Water falls thin and weak's
An old man's pee
In the oak tree's hollow
Tiny whorls and cracked bark
Holding hidden tenants
Tits swerve round a feeder
Replete with seeds
The mandala at the shrine room's
A wooden moon
Orbited by galaxies of insects
The grass cutter's spared
The forget-me-nots
Six resting flies breathe thanks
Ten single raindrops on a shining leaf
Like little pearly spinsters
Between place of spirit and air
The bee, the buzzard, circling
Stripped of swaddlings and trappings
Into the pond of the mind
Dropped scenes form ripples
A purple butterfly
Opened it's wings
It's face, a violet's heart
Yields up her scent
Gifts her seeds for thought
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem