Haiku


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Gentle Jade Buddha,
born of our hope that we might
put an end to war.

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Tawny eyes meet mine,
and hold…golden grass shimmers,
time ceases to be…
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Alone with the wind,
I hear whispered words of love
Pass from tree to tree...
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Ancient steps worn smooth..
a constant quest to touch the
Light of holy grace...
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One crimson leaf...like
a splatter of blood on the
newly fallen snow...
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Frost in stillness lies.
Moon gives way to morning’s light,
Silent comes the day...

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