Born on straw at nightunder low stable rafters,Baby Jesus cried.
Wise men come to seea child of greater wisdomand honor divine.
Sheep and goats and cowsgather 'round a manger bedto awe at a babe.
I write for pages,get lost in the mezzaninehidden from stages.
The Christmas spiritwhispers softly in my ear,"Go be of good cheer.
Each person you meetis an aspect of yourself,clamoring for love.
Your hair is winter fire,January embers.My heart burns there, too.-Stephen King, IT
Nereden Gelip GeçerBazen pasaportumu çıkarırfotoğrafıma bakarım(çok iyi değil... vs.)sadece var olduğumu görmek içinTokyo 12 haziran 1976
It is easy to believe we are each waves and forget we are also the ocean.
Shepherds lift their heads,not to gaze at a new lightbut to hear angels.
In pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away.
Your hair is winter fire,January embers.
silence in the lightover thick bamboo leaves, the sunmagical yellow- Tara Estacaan, Day's Crown Haiku
Rare and precious gifts,gold and myrrh and frankincense,to offer a king.
If you give me homeI will give you adventure.It's both we can have.
A new star shines bright.Angels herald the good news.The Christ child is born.
If it weren't for dreams, he said. I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids. He cleared his throat then held up his hands dramatically: Dreams like...
The love of nature is religion, and that religion is poetry; these three things are one thing. This is the unspoken creed of haiku poets.
HereI'm here-the snow falling.
O snailClimb Mount FujiBut slowly, slowly!