From a Japanese Garden

Blossom of a tree
inlight breeze gently brushing
the face: a courtship.

Shadows of the trees
tremble on the lawn, then fade,
stressing your absence.

In age all blossoms
shed their petals except the
blooms of memory.

When you are silent
I am satisfied because
you do not say no.

My verse seeks beauty
deep in the heart's unfathomed
murmuring waters.

I offer you my
verses, inarticulate
tokens of sorrow.

Tangled life, shall I
ever learn how to smoothly
weave your wayward strands?