In my wooden flute
 
my breath becomes plum blossoms—
 
fragrance for the world.

 
 

Cherry blossoms fade—
 
I hear Sister Lizard call:
 
“Come to where I dwell.”

 
 

With great reverence
 
pilgrims bless each fragrant one—
 
the cherry blossoms.

 
 

The strawberry moon
 
slips through my open window—
 
listen, bullfrogs sing!

 
 

cherry blossoms fade—
 
blank pages in my passport
 
waiting to be stamped

 
 

Weeks after Easter
 
cream-white dahlias are blooming
 
in an old brown pot.

 
 

The open road calls
 
a few weeks after Easter—
 
I unfold my map.

 
 

The day of my birth
 
is like a misty mountain
 
seen from far away.

 
 

How many reasons
 
do I need to write haiku?
 
One lizard will do.

 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
I hope yours is the first song
 
on the first of June.