Suzanne Hayasaki

I must trust the universe.
I must take my cue from the stars:
I must listen to the infinite wisdom
Hidden in their shining silence.
...

I thought about viewing the moon last night,
Full and heavy as it hung in the sky,
But this year as the rice ripens
And the wind picks up
...

Love me when I’m grumpy.
Love me when I’m curt.
Love me when I’m frustrated.
Love me when I’m hurt.
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Find me a book
And let me get lost in it.
Open the cover
And shut out the world.
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Time drips like lime down the sides of my soul.
Layering my lifetimes with a mineral film
Clouding my awareness of the vastness
Of the cave of my own evolution.
...

The roses glow in their own white light.
Hints of pink hide in their folds
As bright summer tones warm from below
Giving the illusion of life within.
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Serene in my tree house
With my tart and my tea
I look out at the living green
Of lacy bamboo leaves
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Life humbles me.
In all of its complexity,
Its depth
Its fathomlessness.
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Lift the pole
Let the boat drift
Listen to the wind
As it rustles in the leaves
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Surrounded by leaning cedar trees
We drive slowly along narrow roads
Edged in with drifts of rusty pine needles
Hoping each curve will be the last.
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Love comes when you least expect it
Like a kitten at your window on a rainy day
Scraggly and mangy and mewling.
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Shall I compare you to a desert horse?
You are as sturdy and as without a name.
Hot winds do parch and from my throat do force
Entreaties for a cool life-giving rain.
...

Imagine if we imagined God
In the image of a woman
Instead of an angry man
Demanding vengeance and allegiance and strength.
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Looking out this winter window
At white snow dusting green leaves
I sit and contemplate nature
And my artificial place on it.
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There is something sexy
About a gentleman.
The way he treats you with respect.
The way he doesn't expect you
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Talk To Me

Sit with me in the shade of this tree.
Tell me who you were, who you are,
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If I were Frost, I would walk the less-traveled path.
If I were Thoreau, I would go and live deliberately.
If I were Basho, I would travel the narrow road.
If I were Eliot, I would seek out muttering retreats.
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There are as many realities
As there are drops of rain
In a sudden summer shower,
Catching the light and refracting it
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Ever ask a bee who his God is?
If you did, he would say “We are.”
Ever ask him, “Yes, but who is in charge? ”
“Do you have a king? ”
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Isn't it funny how light changes our perception?
How dull rust leaves transform into crystal claret
When a beam of light finds its way to them -
Catching our eye as they seem to come alive?
...