These poems may not be reproduced in any fashion without jai's written permission.

Japanese Courtyard Garden  A woman sits on a high rock near the gate, her legs crossed in front of her like a butterfly.   Beside her, water drips   from a bamboo reed   into a black stone basin. To her left, a stream romps over, around, and down, waterfalling into a pool where large orange-white, gray-orange, and black- white fish slide seamlessly. She sees no fish, hears no waterfall. The hard, steady drop of water from the reed is her only occasionally recognized companion. The ages-old bonsai trees approve her.   apple-blossom time                        heaven is you and me, sheltered by an apple tree in full blossom sweet scent-- the wine of life blossoms-- a lace alight the only rain-- petals   Birthday Bubbles                       birthdays can be like gardens, a respite from the turmoil of life, a day to wander/wonder* in yourself to wear a deep pink hibiscus the first to bloom on your new plant sometime during the night—birthday morning delight to let your hair hang loose, or if it usually does, to tie it back to almost meet your brother for lunch he's running late as usual so you only have ten minutes but it was spur of the moment and he accepted so joyously you couldn't help but be glad to pick up your favorite birthday cake and share it with your mother who is ill, "Have cake. Will travel." you say smilingly to go home, return birthday calls from friends, read a few chapters in a Mary Roberts Rinehart mystery, take a nap then a young male friend takes you out for dinner and !!!!: alarms sound, blue lights flash, a man slides down a firehouse pole flourishing a birthday cake which he presents with a bow    "to me" and somewhere in all the above you begin to glow and you keep on glowing and you finish the day with a sheet of paper, each memory like a big, wet, gossamer, rainbow bubble to sing/give wing in words finally you return to the mystery: life— have a ball     *A / indicates that you may say either or both of the words or phrases so separated.   Three-Robin Sunday            (Clayton)            Sun shines. February vanishes for a day. Outside the cafe, two red breasts perch on pyracantha: "Berries, berries! More!" Grass breathes. Chestnuts command presence. Leafless trunks, like strong, supple hands —fingers, firm, flexed— teach earth to sky, preach "home." A third robin, strutting stones, works his way to green...red, feeds. Tree bark is solid, soft, in the distance. Afternoon waits. Listen.   Chalkboard Door           Door Poem 3            This door, is a chalkboard, waiting to be written upon. And I need not fear what I write for it is easily erased, something new put in its place. Or perhaps I'll write nothing at all as I wait in this hall for who knows what or when or whom.... Will I find the new room strange? In the meantime I shall have fun, clapping erasers, clouding the sun, letting chalk dust become the sum of my care for the time unwritten here.   Revolving Door              Door Poem 6        I've been round this revolving door before and before and before. The old gold glistened, but the glass was so dark I couldn't see to listen so I followed my heart, which was not to be trusted where you were concerned. I got burned til I finally learned to ignore all revolving doors.   The Wolf at the Door      Door Poem 12      You are at grandmother's house. The wolf stands beside the door. He is, as they used to say, nattily dressed. He smiles at you sheepishly, his canine teeth hidden by his full lower lip. Yet there is something in his eye you don't trust. You want out. You move toward the door, telling the wolf, "I am not grandma. I am Red Riding Hood so I am not to be eaten." The wolf's smile merely broadens. Your hand reaches for the knob. He lifts his paw. That is all you ever remember.   Beauty and the Beast a detail the final petal fell revealing within another rose more beautiful than the first and within that another rose more beautiful than the last and within that another and within that infinity a rose unfolding petal by ovulescent petal until eternity is no more nor less than thee evanescent opalescent omniprescient lingering sense sent of   The Handwriting on the Walls   Red swirls       whirls       whorls       worlds       virile (Trans) Forming       For Ming aaaaaaa vor vertex vor vertex vor vert X from/form earth/erde       to/tu       skyyyyyyyyy . Drawn       Dawn UUUUPPPP --as if having died-- I AM/OM lifted/gifted Home