Oh butterfly, so beautiful; do you worry, about your purpose? Surely, your colors alone; must please Heaven, to look down upon. Could it be, that mankind is also pleasing; just for being, the way we are? #sijo

Something cries, in the summer night; with a voice, I take for human. Flashlight search, finds all in bed; I turn from the stare, of the black windows. Katydids, chant their enigmatic verse; the loud silence, of August dark. #sijo

Show me, a nation state; or a number, or the feeling of pain. Just where, physically; do we keep, the laws of physics? The tighter, materialism’s net is woven; all the more holes, one can see. #sijo

All things pass, both bad and good; but they are not gone, in equal measure. The perfect, stands outside time; while imperfection, perishes with its age. Heed the wise, that good is perfection; and there is no bad, but corrupt good. #sijo

Little grows, in barren soil; while in rich dirt, forests flourish. How much we praise, the towering trees; how little we note, the land that rears them. Deep wisdom, thrives in a fertile mind; you must supply all, but the seed. #sijo

A day, becomes a year; becomes an age, and still we spin. The clockwork, of the universe; measures hours, beyond our eons. All moments, before the face of the eternal; so the timeless is, even now. #sijo

Life and death, are sacred things; both being gifts, ordained by God. By other names, existence and change; they are the world, we dearly cling to. The latter, is not less cruel in its absence; for where in stillness, can lie the soul? #sijo

Storm delays, became taxi rides; hours’ journey, in the clearing night. At first, only reflections gleamed; cloudy skies, beyond the window. But in time, the stars of passage shone; the zenith marking, a return home. #sijo

Wide expanse, of sand-brown carpet; cradles my back, like a time-smoothed desert. The buzzards, of ancient memories; wheel gloriously, in the thought-thick air. Approaching, his hawk-head flashing in the night sun; childhood’s guardian, caws time begun. #sijo

I have seen, the noise of deafness; and I fear now, the silence in hearing. I had seethed, at the loss of quiet; what worse injury, is the loss of sound. We all stand, near the cacophony of stillness; let us find music, while we can. #sijo

Contemplating, each point on my skin; I realize myself, a world of worlds. The distance, from head to foot; spans an array, too vast to catalogue. Feeling small, is not the only path of awe; everything we know, is cosmic. #sijo

The finiteness, of our remaining time; the uncertainty, of its extent. I will not know, our final goodbye; until one day, there are no more greetings. No wisdom, can dissuade my tears; only remind me, to see you now. #sijo

I demand, the spider to retreat; from the sacred space, of my bathtub. “It was mine, long before your birth; see how I command, the waters to rise up.” My glory, fails to elicit response; eight eyes see clearly, I am no God. #sijo

Our swim, this afternoon; echoes in me, in my evening bath. Aching arms, a sunburned face; and a nose, that runs like a faucet. All worth it, to clasp your hand in dive; and forget the pull, of gravity. #sijo

This stone road, divides the trees; until far above, they meet in canopy. Down the way, pearl-gray clouds are showing; trunked arches forming, a gate to the sky. As above, so we walk below; leafy walls growing, our path of air. #sijo

What fortune, is existence; to be, and experience. Pain and joy, point me to myself; blessed again, with consciousness. And my heart, teaches me to seek the good; who could be poor, with such treasures? #sijo

Nothing, and too much at once; my notions fail, to converge to thought. Unbounded, the signs flip wildly; oscillating down, the mirthless sinusoid. Local peaks, masquerade as asymptotes; but I find no trace, of a limit. #sijo

The mirage, of correct answers; in this desert, of definitions. The siren call, of the right path; along our murky, odyssey of choices. A bright light, will not reveal the stars; admit the darkness, and face the skies. #sijo

Though solid, I am filled with holes; tubes that carry, the fluids of life. Am I but, the container; or too the lungs’ gusts, and the heart’s currents? DNA, lies dreaming in the nuclei; it will not tell us, where I end. #sijo

Blindfolded, I walk upwards; the downwards side, of the escalator. The steps climbed, are quite many; but I know little, of my progress. The moments, creep with calculations; and rest becomes, the hardest work. #sijo

The ospreys, oscillate their cries; nests ripe, with wind-eager chicks. From their pillars, along the river; sun-patterned wings, dive them skyward. Wheeling paths, arc them far and near; and I lose myself, in dreams of flight. #sijo

Always, on the edge of something; never quite leaving, familiar ground. Ever past, the point of no return; the revolution, coming tomorrow. Was it so, from the earliest days; or have we grown, stir-crazy? #sijo

Firefly, alights on my hand; recalling a trust, shared since childhood. I remember, the nights of jeweled air; when they and I played, long past the setting sun. How reduced, their numbers seem these days; how rarely I dance, in the dusk. #sijo

Roof shimmers, in summer sun; the shade below, uncomfortably warm. Crystalline sky, burns white-embered blue; no hint betrayed, of the coming storm. But the flash, shall echo azure fire; and the rolling roar, grind with a heat. #sijo

My questions, are water and fire; the answers hide, in the spinning stars. In the dark, of the ancient sea; something flickers, beneath the horizon. I ask who, and the seasons chuckle; they have spun it all, into myths. #sijo

Setting sun, greets rising moon; in that late daylight, that summer calls evening. Golden red, and blue-ringed white; the unblinking stare, of heaven’s eyes. I ponder, that heterochromic god; as time and skyline, occlude our gaze. #sijo

How lucky, to be humbled; how joyous, to descend down. Success, drains appreciation; in weakness, are wonders known. Brief losses, fall on me like rain; quenching the drought, of thankless gains. #sijo

I wonder, what makes them listen; though perhaps, they don’t even hear. Who notifies, the unnoticed; or reviews, the unremarked? The pulpits, are filled with lucky people; most prophets preach, in the rain. #sijo

Certainty, is a closed eyelid; to be unsure, is to have vision. The senses, blind us in arrogance; we must see, the corners of sight. The world’s glare, can blink us to tears; but I would not live, in darkness. #sijo

Returning, to the bare patch; cleared in years to dust, by my playing feet. A circle, drawn in seasons of leaves; still distinct, all these summers later. Slight tremble, as I realize its pastness; now small green shoots, are growing. #sijo