Petal States
This series unfolds through the language of flora: tree, petal, sap, spore where botanical life becomes a mirror for spiritual time, emotional transience, and ancestral memory. Drawing from the deep seasonal traditions of East Asian thought, each poem orbits a single plant: its rhythm, symbolism, biology, and mythos. Together, they trace the quiet logic of blooming, the necessity of pruning, and the unspoken truth that beauty often arrives before understanding.
Meihua / Ume (梅花 | Plum Blossom)
This poem centers the plum blossom (梅花 / ume)—a symbol of strength, beauty, and endurance. Blooming in late winter, often through frost, the ume reflects both seasonal precarity and faith in transformation. Its role in Chinese and Japanese poetry and painting makes it a harbinger of poetic spring, often associated with stoicism and quiet clarity. The reference to Omote-Kimon (a spiritual gate) connects the blossom’s early blooming to spiritual readiness
Ice off.
Ice on.
False springs leading not to water—
but to a renewed thawing period.
A second freeze.
Up through the Yangtze
and into Nara, Japan—
baika parties run amok,
the original hanas
for this hanami.
The heralding of spring—
windy, woodsy branches
painted deep dark brown.
Ice filters them,
glazing glossy caramel hues,
standing strong at the gates of
きもん | Omote-Kimon.
Flowering without leaves means:
trusting in advance
what will only make sense
in reverse.
Sakura (サクラ | Cherry Blossom)
This piece honors the cherry blossom (sakura) and the philosophy of mono no aware, the bittersweet awareness of impermanence. Unlike the hardy ume, sakura blooms briefly in vibrant display, only to scatter in the wind. This ephemerality is not mourned but celebrated as the core truth of life. By surrendering to change and beauty’s passing, the poem suggests that the heart (kokoro) aligns with nature’s deeper rhythms.
Mono no aware
物の哀れ
Flowers blooming all at once,
fully enveloped in pink.
Purposefully poignant petals
now placed on the ground—
it is this transience, precisely,
that is the singularity of life.
Truth:
We are beautiful when we bloom—
and when we fall.
When we shift and shake
as winds guide us away,
willowing and wading downstream
to new riverbanks.
In beauty lies impermanence.
In impermanence, life.
When we align with this
—in mind, body, and spirit
our kokoro (心)
becomes attuned
to the rhythm of nature
wherever it might send us next..
Kirinomitake (キリノミタケ) | The Texas Star
This poem celebrates the Kirinomitake (Chorioactis geaster)—a rare, star-shaped fungus native only to Texas and Japan. Known as the “Devil’s Cigar,” it blooms with a loud hiss as it expels spores into the air. It thrives in decay, drawing on saprobic revival—the renewal of life through decomposition.
This lone star shining bright—
bursting open.
A new grounding.
Dead roots giving rise
to saprobic glory.
Mornings of revival.
Water all around we worship,
droplets lifted into life.
Humidity sparks:
dehiscence.
A dissonance.
A misalignment
between inner body and external state.
It hisses when it blooms—
expelling spores.
The Devil’s Cigar.
A smoke show
at this wild west shootout
Plumeria Obtusa (鸡蛋花) | Singapore Graveyard Flower
This poem is an ode to the plumeria, also known as frangipani or “graveyard flower” in Southeast Asia. Despite its associations with mourning, the plumeria is a symbol of resilience, sensuality, and eternity. Its thick petals and obovate leaves hold moisture and memory across seasons. In Singapore, it is common in temples and cemeteries, blooming year-round in the tropics. The poem draws on this cyclical regeneration—“無限再生” (infinite rebirth)—as both ecological process and emotional metaphor.
An infinite revival
en vivo.
From spring to autumn
blooms again.
Sweet, strong scents.
Blunt leaves, obovate—
obviating time’s barriers.
Two years
in this slow burn.
Pruning becomes
space-making.
Infinite regeneration.
無限再生 (Mugen Saisei)
Urushi (漆) | Lacquer Tree
This poem tracks the extraction and transformation of urushi (漆), the lacquer tree. Its sap is harvested through ritual incisions, each stage (kamazuri, kanna, henzuke) part of a process that is both violent and reverent. The chemical reaction that follows—polymerization triggered by oxygen exposure—turns toxic sap into a hardened, glass-like surface.
Poem (Edited)
Kamazuri (かまずり)
Layers stripped.
Inner bark.
Urushi Kanna (うるし かんな)
Cutting across.
Henzuke (へんずけ)
Horizontal incisions,
now oozing.
Gooey goblets—
burning, stinging.
Poison oak sap
exposed to oxygen,
given breath.
Unbounded π electrons—
reactive energy
moving through space,
starting a chain reaction.
Polymerization.
A hardening.
A christening.
A darkening.
Glazed.
Glistening.
Water evaporates.
Resistance remains:
lacquer.