Ode to Sakura
The blossoms that launched ten
thousand haiku!
O poets, how can I
compete with you?
You’ve already nailed
impermanence,
and mujō illusions,
and fleeting scents.
There’s naught left to say on
the shades of pinks,
The florally flurries and
cascading winks,
The scattering, scattering
as it all falls,
The hanami picnics
and dango balls.
You captured an excerpt of
yester-Edo.
Fast-forward to steel-
gray Tokyo:
The vision that gives me the
greatest delight
’s a contrast that’s starker than
day versus night:
A sakura starburst
like pale pink fires
Set opposite vectors of
high-tension wires.
It is not poetic, de-
void of all charm;
Industrialism’s
deflowering arm.
But unities bore me,
lacking the tang
Of startling juxtapo-
sition. The tang
Of sharp recognition
throbs in my heart
When I see brought together what
should stand apart.
The blossoms and wires hold
hope to re-glue
The shards of myself that are
cloven in two.
(words and photos by Sarah Hinlicky Wilson)
