Today I am sharing a tanka written by the Heian-era Japanese female poet Izumi Shikibu around the year 1000. Stay well beautiful readers. Although the wind blows terribly here, moonlight also leaks between the roof planks of this ruined house.

Today I am sharing a tanka written by the Heian-era Japanese female poet Izumi Shikibu around the year 1000. Stay well beautiful readers. Although the wind blows terribly here, moonlight also leaks between the roof planks of this ruined house.
(personal photo)
in that moment,
lengthened beyond the spruce
poplar sunbeams
ricochet toward my heart
and I fall in love with you
(personal photo)
the raven foretold
when all would not be well
behind dark windows,
we look at opaque panes
wondering what birds know
(personal photo)
shrubs in a snowdrift
stretch spindle arms up and out
an open embrace
ready to catch you tumble
at the end of a busy day
(personal photo)
raindrops chase us
inside an old bank
to a bard’s haunt
where walls hold his stories,
and guests seek his poetry
(personal photo)
each new day
begins with light in the east
to color our day,
this morning a rainbow greeted me
when I looked in your direction
(personal photo)
on a riverbank
manmade gears and cogs
beneath dry snow crystals,
nature bides her time until
she torques a new direction
(personal photo)
the river flows
through a frozen landscape
where citizens sleep,
you and I run a slow pace
with icicles in our breath
(personal photo)
when you touch the clouds
do they become green leaves
do you share secrets
in a place far from home,
do you ever feel alone?
(personal photo)
water flows smooth
beneath an ivory bridge
toward foreign shores
I strive to make it across
in a single leap to you