spring approaches
fractals of branches
fresh growth in vibrant pigments
budlets poking out
Written by a practitioner of mathematics, philosophy, taiji, gluten-free cooking, chant, meditation, gardening, and renovation, with no particular end in mind. Were there an end, it would come too soon, and the Path would cease to Wander.
2 comments:
I have never been able to compose a decent haiku. I can't even manage mediocre free-verse. I guess I'm just not the poet type.
Which reminds me. In A Tale of Genji (written by a medieval Japanese woman whose name escapes me) the characters compose haiku on the spot all the time. I think there were even some entire conversations in haiku.
I've heard of that, but I've never read it.
I've decided that it's the words that aren't there, the empty spaces, that makes poetry work. I know that doesn't make much sense, but that's the best description I have.
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