Hakodate Again

I am thinking of how you counted each time I said your name aloud.

I order noodle soup in a restaurant. The cook brings me two acorns and sets them on the table. I do not know why.

Where are we going?



Sleeping on tatami mats. Waking up with the gong at dawn.
The monk makes an English translation for me of the morning ceremony.
Apparently there is a god sleeping in the graveyard. When he wakes up, when the Buddha comes, the pure will go to the Pure Land. Something like this; some esoteric sect.



This afternoon etched in my mind. The yellow orchid unfurling at an empty table.



I dreamed the colours of the light, the rainbow.

Why don't we take hold of what is important? Because we are afraid.