Just once, while we sat,
the stream splashed whiteness atop
a round, spotless stone
as mating birds flew beside
two clouds like us on blue sky;
you smiled at me, spoke.
Yet I almost missed
the moment you aligned all
like stars, a meeting
the width of a few seconds
whose oneness held me spellbound.
Coming, going. Day
soon flowed in new forms,
passing but not parting us:
the clouds broadened, thinned,
the two birds vanished in leaves,
shadow dulled the stone’s white splash.
You spoke, I listened,
yet that convergence
did not return and would not,
though our watchfulness
outlived a thousand summers:
another stone would flash white,
other bird pairs fly,
all—you, day’s designs
ordered anew by your voice
—ours, but not those. No,
that moment was only once,
departing as guests embrace
so the love remains.
Poet’s Note: “One Time, One Meeting” (in Japanese, ichi-go, iche-e) is a Japanese cultural concept, derived from Zen Buddhism, that describes the unique, unrepeatable nature of a moment. The poem is written syllabically in the manner of a haiku or tanka, each stanza having a 5-7-5-7-7-5 pattern.
