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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