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