Sabi Poems

Wabi Sabi, japanese artform

balancing the inward and outward
marrying material and spiritual as an artform
showcasing the objective and subjective
conjuring both philosophical construct and aesthetic ideal
the aspiration a way of life

The Wabi-Sabi of Tintern Abbey

Things bloom more beautiful when breaking down.
The nave now ploughs through foams of flowering trees,
a frozen caravel.  Kissed by the breeze,
the river surface suddenly seems to frown
exquisitely. The apse’s jaunty crown
of weeds above one (sightless) eye would please
romantic poets. What was once a friese
lies strewn about, a shaley shanty-town.
We love whatever withers, atrophies.
To see

Wabi-sabi

“Your daughter stares,” 
       my mother whispered;
as she lay naked on the bed. 
       A smile of pleasure crossed her face
        while the nurse
  gently caressed her frail body
with a soft, warm sponge.
  

Wabi-Sabi

Looking in the mirror,
Looking at yourself, sighing, 
Say “she’s more broken
Than the others you see 
walking down the street.”
Maybe you won’t say so
When you see their faces
Washed out and pale,
Behind the painted concrete
Cracks do start to break.
So don’t stuff your thin arms,
Flaunt that well in your cheek,
Be proud of the black marks,
By the edge of

Wabi-sabi

In this world, 
we are all transients, 
traveling to the beat 
of a mortal drum,
on a latent path
that only the souls 
can see, 
waiting for that moment
when we give back 
our borrowed light. 

Like a star,
we can shed our light 
in the night 
and lose our radiance 
in the day, 
to depend on the sun,

Wabi Sabi

Kato was a mutt-product:- breeding run amok
No purity meant the pound of death-induction 
Only his adoption saved him from that inferno
turning life into moments full of simply-perfect:

Each summer, the sun stroke a furry black hue
Elevating it with a sheer of burgundy elegance

Pauses were paws-aplenty with a trot and stop
Leaves all fallen he sniffed, callings of

Wabi Sabi and Flow

Imperfection becomes,
the beautiful face of impermanence.

One dying flower,
enlightens a whole field of blooms.
Change gives meaning,
to all that is born to flow.

The river does not ask which way?
The rocky riverbank crumbles,
because the water declares
the unreality of all resistance.

In an imperfect world,
perfection is a form of death,
while death is beyond form,

and so, a chip or crack
in a

Wabi - Sabi

We wander through so many gardens,
doting robins, ignoring the crows.
Our personal oasis is an unfinished poem.
Plastic flowers may last longer, but their dead scent,
cannot compare to freesia and frangipani.

In fading grey sunset,
I crumble, crouching in musk air.
An arch frame with withered wood skin
and paint peeling in need of black dye,
but still Shalimar honeysuckle wraps like

Wabi-Sabi

Wabi-Sabi 12-21-23  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wabi-Sabi

Empty the mirage of perfection
Whose shadow wears scars
Of perpetual broken rainbows –
Cracked rose petals –
Gilded edges joined by hibernation and spring.

A pilgrimage into amnesia
Timeworn victories fade into badges lost to time 
Moonlight swallows the waning heart of morning
Sunlight gobbles up unfinished faces of the moon
Storms inhale fragments of sunbows.

Out of exploding ephemeral

Wabi-sabi

For me you’re designed, mesmeric scarred moon, 
grace gleams in the convolute cradle of cyan night, 
slithers in the silken sky I create for you,
a turquoise trail you trace in my heart incised.

Thunder cloud surges from the edge of stained night, 
the debris of the splintered sky swathes me.
You retreat in the glare of anguish

Wabi Sabi

Nothing can dim the light that shines from within. ~Maya Angelou

You are perfect 
in all of your imperfections.

What imperfections? 
I ask.

Exactly!
He responds.

it was not true love
the only true love is God
and Christ on the cross
bearing the imperfections
so light can shine out from me

Wabi-Sabi

- poem taken for other purpose-

Wabi-sabi

The beauty of the leaves embraced their difference
As they shriveled ‘neath the sap drained Maple
Celebrating their continuum in the soil
A sadness tinged the sun’s smile

The mindless flocks fled, as did my thoughts
In search of kinder climes devoid of tears
Guided through the present by the past
Sifting through the distant clouds of when

Gnarled trees contort ensnared in

Wabi-sabi

When he went away, leaving her that day,
She thought her heart would betray…
The way it hurt, the way she wanted him to stay.

When love meant to last all lifelong, like a song,
Joyful and full, then lost in the dark, so wrong,
Leaving her alone and afraid, after he’d strung her along.

When doubts filled her up, after

Wabi-Sabi

youth, where imperfections trip upon each other
and opportunistic peers joyfully celebrate the folly
 - glass tree houses be damned...

and - a spun bottle breaks blood brotherhoods
where fragile crevices expose truths and
welcome untested kinships to fill the void.

the leftover baggage - will it be burden or buoyant?

like Scrooge's chains, worked upon - idyllic dreams
  

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