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Mysterious Ways
This haiku stands quietly in the space between question and excuse. The phrase “mysterious ways” is a soft curtain drawn when silence falls from the heavens. Silence is its own teacher in Zen, but it feels like evasion here. The poem invites a gentle smile, not of mockery, but recognition: we all seek patterns in the sky when prayers echo…
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Water Into Wine
This haiku floats between celebration and sacrifice. At first, the miracle is simple—a kindness, a moment of presence. But the juice darkens. The wine becomes a symbol, heavy with meaning. What begins as laughter ends in ritual. Is it still wine? Or something else? The haiku does not answer. It only watches. water into wine jesus’ magical juice bloody, bloody…
