As the butterfly
hovers near a sunset
its wings touch the sea

A piece of green pepper
fell
off the wooden salad bowl:
so what?

spring rain:
browsing under an umbrella
at the picture-book store

old garden—she empties
a hot-water bottle
under the moon

rice reaping—
no smoke rising from
the cremation ground today

fanning out its tail
in the spring breeze,
see—a peacock!

I turn my back
on Buddha and face
the cool moon

in the coolness
gods and Buddhas
dwell as neighbors

wheat sowing—
the mulberry trees
lift bunched branches

entangled with
the scattering cherry blossoms—
the wings of birds!