it thundered a little bird

i went up and up even the clouds

again i slip the plop of my water bottle

breathing hard the smell of headaches

the forest red at sunset red at autumn

fire that flies, fire that works

so glad that every day the mountains

i ate breakfast about why is the world so beautiful

rains that bow rains that drop

i thought again about a break in the clouds

all hours of the night and daydreaming

every city the city of squares

most light speaks sunish

when sun and dirt

thistle bright morning: haiku by taneda santōka

into my bedroom quietness a bird is shouting

my eyes upon the sun upon my face

the sun not setting turned to moss

quiet and watching the clouds flock

evening cracking like an egg

taking a breath from the night sky

three dimensions of birdsong

digging up night from the garden

green like no grass is green

throwing sound into the valley

metal tendons of mountains, metal skins of lakes

glen of the birches

walking the grounds of kōya mountain

a hill of seven colors

walls fall