Winter solitude—
 
tea leaks slowly from the crack
 
in my old white cup.

 
 
 

Wider and deeper,
 
even during the winter,
 
the oak spreads its roots.

 
 
 

Winter storm warning—
 
a white cat in the window
 
purrs contentedly.

 
 
 

Today poetry
 
must take the ascendency
 
over winter’s grip.

 
 
 

Bleak winter mountains—
 
surely a light will guide me
 
as I journey on.

Deepening winter—

a cat and her three kittens

curl up near the stove.

 
 
 

How persistently
 
the cardinal keeps singing,
 
urging snow to melt!

 
 
 

Nipped by winter winds,
 
I pray for one thing only:
 
cherry-blossom rain.

 
 
 

Unexpected rain—
 
the white-crowned sparrows scatter
 
as the first drops fall.

 
 
 

Pilgrim, when new leaves
 
appear on the ginkgo tree,
 
set out with your staff.