haiku for architecture 


autumn 


rustling peepal leaves 

cool courtyard under my feet

childhood summer



how very cool it feels

taking a noonday nap, to have

a wall against my heels!



bent down in the rain

the ripe barley makes this

such a narrow lane!



to the Lord Toba’s Hall

five or six horsemen hurry hard-

a storm-wind of the fall.



persimmons; as I chew,

a temple bell begins to boom

from Horyu. 



tarnished is the gold-

with you leaves around us, we look back

to days of old. 



oxidized red, verdigris

crane sections above

grey river. 

 


use stainless hardware? 

nah, I’d rather see the rust

who cares anyways? 



now the swinging bridge

is quieted with creepers

like our tendrilled life



buried in silence 

a scream that whispers aloud

as closed doors fall



the women folk

leaning let fall

the screen


 

the mists come; 

the mountains fade and vanish; 

the tower stands alone. 



above the veil

of mist, from time to time

there lifts a sail.



eight views? - ah well; 

mist hid seven when I heard

Mii-dera’s bell



puzzle of space time,

pieces missing on purpose,

and never finished.



vigorously use

caulk all over the building

hoping for the best



new library or 

glorious homeless shelter

the future is now



now be a good boy

take good care of our house

cricket my child



trapped in a helmet

hung in a shrine, a cricket

chirps his last command. 



I called to the wind, 

“who’s there?”...whoever it was

still knocks at my gate. 



grave mount, shake too!

my wailing voice - 

the autumn wind.



and the neighborhood

autumn wanes away

vacant estate



autumn and gone is

the guest upstairs



a graveyard: low

the gave mounds lie, and rand

the grasses grow



butterfly asleep

folded soft on temple bell

then bronze gong rang

 


voices of two bells 

that speak from twilight temples

ah! cool dialogue



the candle to light

when dusk falls he climbs

hill-temple



autumn, end of day;

“shall I light the lamp now?”

someone comes to say



 evening shadows touch

my gate...high on the mountains

deer still see sun-rays.



the first day of the year: 

thoughts come,-and there is loneliness; 

the autumn dusk is here. 



since my house burned down,

I now own a better view

of the rising moon



in all this cool

is the moon also sleeping? 

there, in the pool!



behind me the moon

brushes a shadow of pines

lightly on the floor



night over the pond

of the temple garden...geese

adrift and asleep…



winter >  


<summer