All the springs ran dry

For I drank and emptied their waters

Till my gut could take no more.

The struggling fish of the waterless rivers

Spoke in unison, a ringing in my head

You thirst not for water.

A feast I’m welcomed to

Rows of tables stretched beyond the horizon

I bit into the chargrilled flesh of an ancient creature.

My hunger deepened

You crave not for food

The voice of the flesh rang through my sinews.

A field with a tree I sat under

Restless and still

The sky poured through the branches

The spring waters inside me stirred

They spoke of ancient wisdom

My teeth tingled

A key turned within the confines of my mind

The Cosmos laid bare in the unseen eye.

leaves fell against my cheeks

I felt no thirst

I felt no hunger


I had broken my body

Not living

but I lived nonetheless

All of eternity in a moments wake.

As I sat writing down an ode to my longing to understand the world we live in and the many layered, multi-dimensional nature of all of existence. I stumbled upon word,

Komorebi: A word the Japanese have for sunlight filtering through the trees. The interplay between light and leaves.

My poem above was a predecessor to my discovery of Komorebi. Full, complete, unchangeable. I fought the urge to fortify the remarkable coincidence, inversely timed. I wanted to be seperately inspired by the word and come up with a new poem.

I looked through my usual database of artist’s for a feature image. But nothing seemed to want to be in the frame with my poem, not even stock or pixabay.

Hidden in a collection of forgotten images from a time much before the Ode or Komorebi was known to me, I had captured the tree, the lights and the leaves.

A cross pollination by sheer coincidence. Some things should be left for time to bring together and the story writes itself.