Pink As A Sakura Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

The sun rises and Fuji is pink as a sakura,
Peeking over the trees like a volcanic monolith.
The birds awake, bringing song to the silence,
And I stand alone in the crystal cold air.

A cloud passes and its shadow swims
Across the ridged, cratered, snow covered surface
Of this upside-down ice cream cone of a mountain
With a bite taken out of its peak.

Yesterday we drove through pelting rain
Arriving in a mist, thankful to be safe.
We went to bed sake-sleepy,
Sated on seasonal delicacies
And the company of our sons.

But this morning I rose in pre-dawn darkness
Soaked outside in a square, cedar tub,
Cold above the shoulders,
Floating in hot spring waters,
Sulfurous and somehow slippery.

This retreat was sorely needed.
My body and mind released from their daily weights,
I remember myself as I shed the rest
And as Fuji changes its face from moment to moment,
I watch in awe and accept my insignificance
With relief.