The silk is painted soft and thin,
Where all the summer winds begin.
A garden scene of pink and gold,
A delicate story to be told.
It snaps shut with a quiet sound,
While shadows lengthen on the ground.
A cooling breeze, a sudden grace,
To shield the lady’s quiet face.
A devoted practitioner of traditional Haiku and Tanka, Kenji finds profound depth in brevity. He spends his days walking through the historic temple gardens of his hometown, translating the fleeting nature of the seasons into...
Home is not the walls we paint, or lights that softly glow, it lives inside the quiet hearts...
The snow is heavy on the green,The quietest and sharpest scene.The stalks will bend but never break,Beside the...
The bronze bell rings across the hill,The cherry blossoms standing still.A sound that settles in the chest,To put...