Deafness: Cacophony

A cacophony of irrepressible silence,
A flood of silent, pounding thunder,
The muted rhythm of hundreds of hammers,
Their vibrations inwardly magnified, multiplied.
The repressed sound of a raging, roaring river,
The dead whispers of a breeze blowing in the trees,
A soundless v-formation of geese heading northward,
The silent crackling of burning logs;
The movement of human lips, anticipation of understanding,
The sudden silence of children's laughter,
The relentless blackness of a dark and lonely night,
The lack of gentle music to soothe the soul;
The empty, peaceful lapping of waves against a shoreline,
The mocking twitter of nesting birds, unheard,
The slamming of a snow flake against a rock,
All one and the same sound;
Nothing recorded by the human ear.
"Can't you hear my agony?"

The inner screaming of a deaf man.

I Can't Reach You: The Blind Man

The blind man waves his white cane

Back and forth repeatedly,

Cautiously checking his wilderness pathway.

He wipes a tear from his eye.

"Why have I been visited by this affliction?"

He hollers at the top of his voice,

But it seems as if there is no one to hear.

"I can't reach you."

He stops abruptly,

Inwardly sensing danger;

He waits and listens.

Nothing happens.

The darkness and loneliness of the night,

His constant torment.

Moving ahead carefully,

He feels the ground softening under his feet,

Gradually it gives way, but only slightly.

Suddenly, his feet feel cold and wet

As they sink into the mud,

He loses one shoe.

Using his white cane,

He retrieves it.

Reaching down for it,

He tumbles face downwards into the mud.

"Created out of mud,

I return to the mud."

The blind man almost loses his white cane, too,

But finds it again.

Getting up carefully,

He brushes the mud off it.

He gazes skyward.

"I must be a sight, God.

Can you not see my agony?"

Storm clouds billow overhead.

Rumbles of thunder resound.

A sudden deluge of rain

Washes away the mud.

The blind man taps his white cane repeatedly,

In his search for solid ground.

"I must return from whence I came."

He retraces his path homeward.

"One more adventure in my dark night;

There are no rainbows in my darkness."

A blind man tries to reach God.  

Meeting of Minds: The Meeting

The deaf man, blind man and the man, who could not speak,

Met at a Y in the road

Seemingly, by coincidence.

"Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil,"

Whispered the spirit in the wind.

"Glorify God."

Each man understood and went his own way.

Man understands when God’s Spirit speaks.

Mystery Man: The Man Who Could Not Speak

The mysterious man who could not speak
Stood silently and gazed upwards.
"I am dumb, God,"
He admitted.
"I don't understand.
Why do you not allow me to speak like others?
Have you kept me silent all these years
So that you could speak through me?"
Huge tears rolled down his cheeks.
Thunder resounded and lightning lit up the sky.
"I can hear your thunder resounding
And I see your lightning flashing."
His thoughts seemed overwhelming.
"Wise is the man who remains silent
And lets God speak through him."
He waited.
"But I cannot speak, God.
I am dumb.
Speak to others through me
With power and might."
He waited again.
"God are you dumb, too?
Can you not speak to me in my agony?
Please speak on my behalf."

A man who cannot speak asks God to speak on his behalf.

We Are One: Solitary Dreamer

Solitary dreamer,
With nature, we are one,
With life’s cycles, we are one,
With autumn leaves, we are one;
Fluttering like huge, golden butterflies,
Each leaf destined to find its own niche,
A place in time to fulfill its destiny,
Its quest for the meaning of life fulfilled.
Dream on, solitary dreamer.  

Man is one with nature, even though he often dreams alone.

Senryu about joy: From bondage to bliss

One joy filled moment
Man not a slave forever
From bondage to bliss 

One joy filled moment, as man realizes he is not a slave forever.  

Absolutely not: Two November Rose Buds

Absolutely not spring;
Pink petals, soft and tender,
Unannounced and unexpected,
A miracle of new life,
Simultaneous explosion of pure beauty.
Two rosebuds gently unfolding 
Like identical twins;
One rosebud larger,
Seemingly more dominant;
Lovingly and silently
Growing side by side,
Remaining faithful,
Strengthening each other;
One patiently waiting for the other;
Two rosebuds seemingly unaware
Of the chilly November world;
Absolutely not what they expect.

Rosebuds can blossom unexpectedly in November.