I often feel like an outsider, even when surrounded by people. Whether it’s in a crowded room, a busy city street, or even within my own career, there are times when I find myself searching for a place where I truly belong. It’s a strange kind of loneliness, to be among others, yet unseen. You hear laughter, conversation, the pulse of life all around you, but it feels like there’s a pane of glass between you and everyone else. You’re present, but not felt. This hai

During my recent trip to Japan, I found myself in a small tea shop tucked away on a quiet street in Kyoto. It was one of those unexpected...

I wrote this haiku after visiting my mother’s gravesite one afternoon. As I walked among the headstones, I was struck by how they seemed...

I wrote this haiku while out walking the dogs on a quiet evening. The air carried a soft breeze, and with it came the scent of orange...

I wrote this haiku in a moment of helplessness, when life felt like a sea in turmoil. Events and emotions swirled around me faster than I...

I’ve always loved cherry blossom trees, not only because they’re breathtakingly beautiful, but also because of what they represent. They...

This haiku hit home for me, and I think it may for many others too. We all carry something unseen: burdens, grief, or quiet sadness that...

This poem was born out of one of those weeks where everything seemed to catch fire at once. You know the kind, when one problem flares...

I wrote this haiku early one morning while walking my dogs. The clouds were shifting above me, slow, steady, and unbothered and I found...

On the darkest nights, when even the moon withholds its light, The Lantern  becomes more than a simple object, it becomes a symbol of...

Sometimes, life offers us a fleeting moment of beauty but only if we’re paying attention. I was out walking my dogs one evening, winding...

Grief doesn’t follow rules. It doesn’t arrive on time, and it certainly doesn’t leave when asked. It can be sudden and sharp, or slow and...

I grew up in the desert, where heat wasn’t something to escape—it was something you endured. It became a part of life, ever-present and...

The Lone Wolf  was the first poem I eve r wrote. At the time, I was feeling the quiet weight of loneliness—not just being alone, but...