Treasure Island

Alven L. Robinson


The Bamboo


The bamboo feels the wind and bends
a harmony transcends
the temple of it home
the grove residing on its own
its lofty motive sown,
reaching towards the sky
through the graying eyes of mist
twisting with the storms
the typhoons borne across the seas
beneath new moons
Tsuki-yumi lagoons of light,
white mirrors to ancestral pleas
Shinto prayers heard through the eaves.

The Kami chanting in surrounds
falling mute on burial grounds
to whispered lantern glows
and distant shakuhachi tones - -
the bamboo seeing all it needs,
the failed human deeds
the withered cypress trees
as nothing to its bow
the sacred vow denying with its sway
black rains of pantheons gone astray,
before the purity of shrines
binding reverent minds to island myths
farewells adrift beyond aeonic times.

Submitted: Friday, June 27, 2014
Edited: Friday, June 27, 2014

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Topic(s): nature

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