The snow has mostly melted. Now is the time to resume my walking. To that purpose, I strolled along the road, by the river, looking for whatever struck my fancy. I noticed a lot of broken branches on one of the lone white birch trees, too old to bend like the one of Robert Frost, but never too old to break. And so this winter’s ice storm took its toll. Several of its branches hung like so many broken arms of Shiva. My body sympathized having taken quite the spill this January. Luckily no bones were broken, although tendons and muscles still ache today. But spring is coming. Snowdrops are blooming beneath the cover of a shrub.
broken branches of a birch
spring across the street
where snowdrops climb toward heaven
~Kokoro Sonzai 2009
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