little things left outside life circles
turn out to be the cakes
on this haiku table.
my mind darts from one angle
to the other seeking the exquisite dish
and lines to reward the gem of each moment.
the birds which sing all these years
in my garden are meditation
points and special mediums peeping
into future.
the rainbow at the waterfall
which glorifies her tresses
a mini-waterfall sweeping into a cleavage;
the frogs on the lily pads
models for novice monks
trying out zero thoughts.
give me a pen and a pad
and i will squeeze the whole world
into my three liners.