haiku
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in a chapel of air wings like tracery windows consecrating light
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why art thou silent is thy love a plant of such weak fibre that the treacherous air of absence withers what was once so fair
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no border to cross to shambala follow your heart it flys to the kingdom like a feather
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everything has its wonders even darkness and silence 'cause the grave soul keeps its own secrets and takes its own punishment in silence
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coming going the waterbirds don't leave a trace don't follow a path
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we all have wings but they have not been of any avail to us and if we could tear them off we would do so
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autumn my tears drop from rose leaves
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found within: soft light moon shadow winter's sigh spring's whisper time's dream
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we hope that when the insects take over the world they will remember with gratitude how we took them along on our picnics
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the winds give me enough fallen leaves to make a fire
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spirit and nature melt in one morning light while i walk to the toilette
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after the first powerful plain manifesto the black statement of pistons without more fuss but gliding like a queen she leaves the station
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without just one nest a bird can call the world home life is your career
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through the portals of silence the healing sun of wisdom and peace will shine upon you
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your words become my words your words are my words my words will be your words
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the dawn is replete with fruit day and night reconciled flow like a calm river day and night in a long caress like a man and woman in love like a single endless river under the vaults of centuries where the seasons and people flow toward the living center of origin beyond end and beginning
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it is the common wonder of all men how among so many millions of faces there should be none alike
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the maples flare among the spruces the bursting foxgrape spills its juices the woods are waving farewell summer
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she has the spirit of the sun the moods of the moon the will of the wind
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oh the sea the sun in november the sea is a lake of red fire
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passing the clouds by sailing through the sky the buildings fly
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i know of the leafy paths that the witches take who come with their crowns of pearl and their spindles of wool and their secret smile out of the depths of the lake
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life is pleasant death is peaceful it's the transition that's troublesome
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summer suspended warm buzzing tempest laid flat reliquery sun
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the line of nature feeds the eye and mind with awe a natural flow
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sometimes people need to take their own advice don't be a hypocrite practice what you preach
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how beautifully leaves grow old how full of light and color are their last days
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my mother told me that a yellow sunset means hard wind is coming
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some leaves hang late and some fall before the first frost so goes the tale of winter branches and old bones
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long shadows at noon means winter and sun cold day of peaceful walking
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follow where the sun treads if you see footprints of light go that way
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clouds hang on bare trees but the snow on the mountains is a white blessing
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a magnetic silence made a ripple in a muscle of presence
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amaranthine night weaning shadow from the light umbellate neonate
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nature holds the key to our aesthetic intellectual cognitive and even spiritual satisfaction
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in the cold season a jewel jam is an aid to my freezing heart
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a bright full moon rose seeming near enough to touch perigee present
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can you see the ray if you can see it you will soon find your true love
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sourwood racemes flowers just a memory autumnal pendants
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aperture golden bundle of rays traversing instrument of light
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as thick as morning's tears and dreamy scents of fragrance pass that breathe of other years
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love is not something that you can put chains on and throw into a lake that's called houdini love is liking someone a lot
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wind-blown child of earth fathered by the elements mothered by the light
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moon is a whole note cloudy stanzas span blue sky staccato geese soar
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and at the end of a long day with all the pressure and troubles of living there comes a moment of peace
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a storm in the fall or winter is the time to visit it a light-house or a fisherman's hut the true hotel a man may stand there and put all america behind him
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the winter is made and you have to bear it the winter web the winter woven wind and wind for all the thoughts of summer that go with it
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it is courage courage courage that raises the blood of life to crimson splendor live bravely and present a brave front to adversity
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on lifes vast ocean diversely we sail reason the card but passion is the gale
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doves in the morning love flowering on a branch beautiful bouquet
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deciduous she birds in winter are her blooms flowers for althea
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beauty is mysterious as well as terrible god and devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man
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a turn done in air the sprightly red dancer bounds a dance without plot
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spinning wheel of hearts love at the ends of petals unfolding brightly
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horizon slanting the grey sea of winter is paved in iced glass tiles
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though nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass of glory in the flower
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old sakura your long winter song is so sorrowful you are waiting for last springs you are waiting for last blossoms i am feeling all traces of last centure times on your horny warm skin
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old sakuras noiseless talks about last and future blossoms fill me with sorrowful mood i am listening to the old trees whisper
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winters flame burning brightly through darkening days brave little pilot
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it goes to show you don't ever know watch each card you play and play it slow
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embraced by branches full moon stands on winter morning how it holds the sky
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my respiration and inspiration the beating of my heart the passing of blood and air
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i dreamed of an out-thrust arm of land where gulls blew over a wave that fell along miles of sand
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ripening of leaves the vermillion crescendo red coals in winter
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red skies at night two crows in flight moon shining bright
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winter lies too long in country towns hangs on until it is stale and shabby old and sullen
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new leaves brand new green yellow spring flower among yesterday's brown spikes
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from the tops of trees red cardinals will alight in the dormant grass
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out of cold thin air brilliant carmine leaves will form on dormant branches
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from a rooftop in boston i heard a lot of birds squawking nearby and was lucky enough to use my limited zoom to catch the culprit perched on a pergola in the distance i am but mad north-north-west when the wind is southerly i know a hawk from a handsaw
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the roots of the grass strain tighten the earth is rigid waits he is waiting and suddenly and all at once the rain
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early spring sunlight on a double espresso i'm working from home
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mere colour unspoiled by meaning and unallied with definite form can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways
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what is the good of your stars and trees your sunrise and the wind if they do not enter into our daily lives
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there is a serene and settled majesty to woodland scenery that enters into the soul and delights and elevates it and fills it with noble inclinations
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any man that walks the mead in bud or blade or bloom may find a meaning suited to his mind
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faith is the pierless bridge supporting what we see unto the scene that we do not
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the temple bell stops but i still hear the sound coming out of the flowers
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which one is tallest the nearest or the farthest but both in my mind
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sight is a distraction sight is a deception perception is a hallucination
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riverbed secrets yielding fragmental colours pop and beer bottles
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clouds come floating into my life no longer to carry rain or usher storm but to add colour to my sunset sky
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i usually wear black but i love bold colors i think i'm normal even colors are important to me if i couldn't see the colors now that would be a problem
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sun set within its petals transforming golden light of life
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like a summer breeze blue sky landing in my heart a cloud with feathers
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slung between branches radiating summer sun the winter hammock
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it is the very error of the moon she comes more nearer earth than she was wont and makes men mad
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gannet soaring high defining freedom two wings and open sky
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we cannot die we cannot hurt ourselves any more than illusions on the screen can be hurt but we can believe were hurt in whatever agonizing detail we want we can believe were victims killed and killing shuddered around by good luck and bad luck
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don't walk in front of me i may not follow don't walk behind me i may not lead just walk beside me and be my friend
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the morning sunrise so beautiful to behold glowing breath of light
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sunlight plows then seeds its blue dust upon the land
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if we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel's heart beat and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence
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i do not know how to kiss or i would kiss you where do the noses go
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a green childhood emerges through twisted age shedding light
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a spring a pool among the rock if there were the sound of water only
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i wander i get lost and wander
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waking up the spring rain hasn't cleared the day hasn't ended
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reality is but a picture gaze is but a focus and the eye is a camera
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looking at the world looking back at me documenting the conversation through a lens
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