The first garden
The trees stretch out
splintering the sky,
veins into an earnest eternity.
An old newspaper rustles past
as if chasing
a distant stillness.
Someone plays
a Shamisen nearby
and I see it,
the landscape of all things
unseen.
In the uncertain light
of this canopied afternoon,
life ripens
and I stand
adrift of the tenses.
Around me
the leaves continue to fall,
like days.
[1:52pm, 17th November 2022,
Tokyo.]
The most exciting part of your writing is not actually the event you describe but I think it's how your synchronize everything so well that it feels like a dance form to me.
అద్భుతంగా వుంది ధీరు , 19 తర్వాత మళ్ళీ నీకు కవిత్వం రావడానికి జపాన్ కారణమయ్యింది . జయహో జపాన్ ! ఇలాంటి కవితలు మరెన్నో రాయాలి నువ్వు .