“Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.”

The sea darkens And a wild duck s call Is faintly white.

Friends part forever wild geese lost in cloud.

Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.

Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end – tonight’s moon.

Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.

Winter solitude- in a world of one colour the sound of the wind.

Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.

Seek not the paths of the ancients; Seek that which the ancients sought.

He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.

Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?

Breaking the silence Of an ancient pond, A frog jumped into water – A deep resonance.

An autumn night – don’t think your life didn’t matter.

How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers.

Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.

Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.

The universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.

I think I got people confidence because I was not looking at them like insects that I would film.

An astounding panoply of toxic substances, venomous creatures, poison plants, animals and insects, deleterious environments, virulent pathogens, infectious agents, noxious gases, and combustible chemicals were marshalled to defeat foes.

In summer the empire of insects spreads.

The terrain is everything; the germ is nothing.

Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning’s gentle wine!

Fervency in prayer by the power of the Holy Spirit is a good preservative against thoughts rushing in. Flies never settle on the boiling pot.

Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.

The Wings of all kinds of Insects, are, for the most part, very beautiful Objects, and afford no less pleasing an Object to the mind to speculate upon, then to the eye to behold.”