The Economy of Japanese Flower Arranging


in early March
the thin, red branch of Japanese maple
adds an asymmetrical line to my ikebana.
three Shasta daisies, 
a fluff of pine create balance.

two weeks later, maple buds form.
I pluck out the limp flowers,
keep the branch firmly in the kenzan,
add fresh water to the low-sided suiban.

by April
spring-green mini leaves, here, there:
seven-point stars dance along the stem.

amid days of drought in the land  
and wealth running downhill,
I find it pays to cultivate tiny miracles.
With just a cup of water spent,  
peridots bloom on a barren bough.

-First published in Midwest Quarterly



Ikebana

    
Come with gentle spirit, peaceful mind. 
Pick three flowers that wink at you, 
three leafy stems as suitable partners, 
a tall container for their home. 
Create a graceful triangle of green 
with the partners, shushi, trimmed like so: 
  
Tallest stem is heaven, shin, two times the vase’s height. 
        The next, three quarters of shin, is man, soe. 
            The last, one quarter shorter, earth, tai. 
  
                                 The flowers, 
                        all cut slighter than their 
                leafy husbands, form another triangle. 
  
The most beautiful bloom faces the sun; 
you are the sun. 
Each plant should enhance the others, 
none sharing the same plane. 
Let nature show the way; 
follow rules but stretch them. 
Leave enough space for butterfly wings. 
  
If shape and line fail to harmonize in half an hour, 
you’ve worked too hard and thought too much, 
like a woman who dates a man 
for three years but can’t decide on marriage. 
Better to withdraw the pieces carefully. 
Begin again.

First published in The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review