Haibun - As A Wave

As A Wave

Sitting on the jetty, I can feel the stillness as a wave, having risen, crests -
then, falling, is silent, rolled back into itself.

How I yearn to roll back into myself, to merge with the ocean as a wave.

indigo tides -
a full moon
tugs at the tides

Haibun - The Moon Jar

The Moon Jar


Sitting on a shelf behind glass, the moon jar from
the Joseon Dynasty in Korea was created by join-
ing two bowl-shaped halves.

An irregular shape results from a slight sagging in
the Bunwon kilns while unintended peach flourishes
have slightly tinted the jar from the intense heat.

Thickly applied glaze imparts a faint blueness, a
delicate tone to the porcelain, conveying the cool
freshness of the moon.

astonished
in front of the moon jar
my face

Haibun - Close to a Distant Shore

Close to a Distant Shore

Glazed on the drum-shaped vessel, a crane swoops
from the lotus pond with a fish in his bill.

As we finish the plum wine, we tap the bottle with
driftwood, sing mad, love songs to the moon.

The sun begins to shine through a grey fog on the
ocean - the hangover of poets through the ages.

five hundred A.D. -
the Korean potter smiles
at a passing cloud

Haibun - The Stone Well

The Stone Well

I follow the moonlit path to the mossy stone well.
A tossed pebble echoes in circles.

Lowering the bucket into depths of darkness, I
hoist it dripping onto the ledge.

The moon floats on the surface as I scoop it with
a ladle on a rusty nail.

I return the bucket to the rope above the stone well.
The ladle lies empty in the grass.

lingering heat -
my thirst quenched
by a cool moon

Haibun - How Light Carves Shadows

How Light Carves Shadows

By pale dawn, from the west, she appears -
a haloed silhouette. Then, golden sun reveals
each chiselled fold released from the stone.

Dusk bathes her in oblique light, in streaks
of rose, peach, violet, blue. As darkness falls,
she rises with the silver moon, a shadow...

the smoothness
of her naked curves -
light carves shadows

Haibun - Tsukubai

Tsukubai

By dusk, the sodalite he bought as a
dusty slab of stone from the quarry at
dawn has been carved by his sculptor's
hand into a half-circle of royal blue sky
with streaks of cirrus.

Gently, he places it in the grass.
The garden hose gurgles.

dipping my finger
in the stone basin,
i trace the moon...

Haibun - Country Church with Rose Window

Country Church with Rose Window

Breathless on the path, she holds onto
the gate around the church. The statue
of the Madonna beckons her. Aching,
she makes it from the back to a front
pew to rest awhile.

There, in the midst of pain, she feels the
glow of glass petals - their hues fall gently
through the window of Our Lady of the
Rosary. Released, her last breath rises at
one with the roses.

climbing the trellis
the sweetness of attar
reaches the sky