Tranquil Tokonoma

         Tranquil Tokonoma

One thing a perfect purple rose cannot

Accomplish is a type of sadness.  Man

Is best at that.  That is mankind’s special blot.

The plants and animals have learned to ban

Such uselessness.  They settle in their fur

Or leaves and just get on with life and death.

Yet men and women, children, all concur

That they should seek out sorrow with their breath

Whenever possible.  Within rice walls

A cross-legged man caresses sadness from

His heart.  Chrysanthemum’s pure white appals

His sense that he should turn the blossom glum.

  The bloom resists this silliness.  It waits

    There never contemplating wilted fates.

Phillip Whidden