Sanaヨルニナクトリ
@sana369.bsky.social
俳句、短歌、断章、海、灯台、
草、木々、キッチン、遠くに住む友。
Tanka, haiku, small fragments.
Sea light, grass, trees.
Quiet kitchens. distant friends.
A small cabinet of quiet things.
Sometimes, simple English arrives softly.
#tanka #haiku #smallpoems #poetry
草、木々、キッチン、遠くに住む友。
Tanka, haiku, small fragments.
Sea light, grass, trees.
Quiet kitchens. distant friends.
A small cabinet of quiet things.
Sometimes, simple English arrives softly.
#tanka #haiku #smallpoems #poetry
Plants.
Gardens.
Trees.
The sky.
And a breeze makes everything better.
Gardens.
Trees.
The sky.
And a breeze makes everything better.
August 22, 2026 at 11:09 PM
Plants.
Gardens.
Trees.
The sky.
And a breeze makes everything better.
Gardens.
Trees.
The sky.
And a breeze makes everything better.
The waning gibbous lingered in the dawn sky as I watched the night carry the moon away.
July 31, 2026 at 8:33 PM
The waning gibbous lingered in the dawn sky as I watched the night carry the moon away.
The full moon was still lingering in the western sky.
I wanted to go outside and see it, but I didn’t move.
This morning, I realized that was my only regret.
I wanted to go outside and see it, but I didn’t move.
This morning, I realized that was my only regret.
July 30, 2026 at 3:45 AM
The full moon was still lingering in the western sky.
I wanted to go outside and see it, but I didn’t move.
This morning, I realized that was my only regret.
I wanted to go outside and see it, but I didn’t move.
This morning, I realized that was my only regret.
I left a few drops of water on the wall.
A hornet found them.
It kept coming back, drinking until it couldn’t hold another drop.
I watched for a while.
The least it could have done was stop for a little chat.
A hornet found them.
It kept coming back, drinking until it couldn’t hold another drop.
I watched for a while.
The least it could have done was stop for a little chat.
July 29, 2026 at 8:25 AM
I left a few drops of water on the wall.
A hornet found them.
It kept coming back, drinking until it couldn’t hold another drop.
I watched for a while.
The least it could have done was stop for a little chat.
A hornet found them.
It kept coming back, drinking until it couldn’t hold another drop.
I watched for a while.
The least it could have done was stop for a little chat.
To know
there is no light
inside my body
saddens me.
there is no light
inside my body
saddens me.
July 29, 2026 at 8:16 AM
To know
there is no light
inside my body
saddens me.
there is no light
inside my body
saddens me.
On a rainy morning, I moved the white hydrangea seedling into a slightly larger pot.
I thought about leaving it in the ground, but feared the vigorous weeds would quickly close in around it.
Until it gathers enough strength to stand on its own,
I will be its mother—
and its anxious little servant.
I thought about leaving it in the ground, but feared the vigorous weeds would quickly close in around it.
Until it gathers enough strength to stand on its own,
I will be its mother—
and its anxious little servant.
June 9, 2026 at 11:25 PM
On a rainy morning, I moved the white hydrangea seedling into a slightly larger pot.
I thought about leaving it in the ground, but feared the vigorous weeds would quickly close in around it.
Until it gathers enough strength to stand on its own,
I will be its mother—
and its anxious little servant.
I thought about leaving it in the ground, but feared the vigorous weeds would quickly close in around it.
Until it gathers enough strength to stand on its own,
I will be its mother—
and its anxious little servant.
Tonight,
I will sleep
in the shape of something
washed ashore.
I will sleep
in the shape of something
washed ashore.
June 4, 2026 at 7:15 AM
Tonight,
I will sleep
in the shape of something
washed ashore.
I will sleep
in the shape of something
washed ashore.
The night and I
are both quiet.
Yet I hear
something like ringing.
Only the mole crickets underground,
making noise,
calling for females.
are both quiet.
Yet I hear
something like ringing.
Only the mole crickets underground,
making noise,
calling for females.
June 3, 2026 at 7:17 PM
The night and I
are both quiet.
Yet I hear
something like ringing.
Only the mole crickets underground,
making noise,
calling for females.
are both quiet.
Yet I hear
something like ringing.
Only the mole crickets underground,
making noise,
calling for females.
I remembered someone
the way one remembers
a dream—
not touching,
yet within reach.
the way one remembers
a dream—
not touching,
yet within reach.
June 3, 2026 at 12:22 PM
I remembered someone
the way one remembers
a dream—
not touching,
yet within reach.
the way one remembers
a dream—
not touching,
yet within reach.
I prepare the soil.
I water.
I wait.
The flower opens
without asking me.
I water.
I wait.
The flower opens
without asking me.
June 2, 2026 at 11:54 PM
I prepare the soil.
I water.
I wait.
The flower opens
without asking me.
I water.
I wait.
The flower opens
without asking me.
Here,
is everything I had been searching for.
A folded map to somewhere.
Charts pinned to the walls.
A botanical guide.
is everything I had been searching for.
A folded map to somewhere.
Charts pinned to the walls.
A botanical guide.
June 2, 2026 at 6:41 PM
Here,
is everything I had been searching for.
A folded map to somewhere.
Charts pinned to the walls.
A botanical guide.
is everything I had been searching for.
A folded map to somewhere.
Charts pinned to the walls.
A botanical guide.
小さな箴言が書かれた
頁の余白の大きさは
世界そのものだった
The margins of a page
bearing a small aphorism
were the world itself.
頁の余白の大きさは
世界そのものだった
The margins of a page
bearing a small aphorism
were the world itself.
June 2, 2026 at 6:20 PM
小さな箴言が書かれた
頁の余白の大きさは
世界そのものだった
The margins of a page
bearing a small aphorism
were the world itself.
頁の余白の大きさは
世界そのものだった
The margins of a page
bearing a small aphorism
were the world itself.
June 2, 2026 at 7:07 AM
Picking spent flowers,
making cuttings.
I am no god—
still.
making cuttings.
I am no god—
still.
May 28, 2026 at 1:25 PM
Picking spent flowers,
making cuttings.
I am no god—
still.
making cuttings.
I am no god—
still.
A chip in my mug.
For a moment,
I thought,
I’m sorry.
Perhaps I’m too sensitive.
It was probably mass-produced,
made by a machine.
Even so—
a part of the world
is missing.
For a moment,
I thought,
I’m sorry.
Perhaps I’m too sensitive.
It was probably mass-produced,
made by a machine.
Even so—
a part of the world
is missing.
May 28, 2026 at 1:19 PM
A chip in my mug.
For a moment,
I thought,
I’m sorry.
Perhaps I’m too sensitive.
It was probably mass-produced,
made by a machine.
Even so—
a part of the world
is missing.
For a moment,
I thought,
I’m sorry.
Perhaps I’m too sensitive.
It was probably mass-produced,
made by a machine.
Even so—
a part of the world
is missing.
My teenage years.
Dried roses.
A copper cup.
A fragment of an old poem.
A small slip of paper.
An unused letter pad.
My best friend,
whose whereabouts
I will never know.
A record left on the turntable.
An unread liner note.
Dried roses.
A copper cup.
A fragment of an old poem.
A small slip of paper.
An unused letter pad.
My best friend,
whose whereabouts
I will never know.
A record left on the turntable.
An unread liner note.
May 28, 2026 at 12:59 PM
My teenage years.
Dried roses.
A copper cup.
A fragment of an old poem.
A small slip of paper.
An unused letter pad.
My best friend,
whose whereabouts
I will never know.
A record left on the turntable.
An unread liner note.
Dried roses.
A copper cup.
A fragment of an old poem.
A small slip of paper.
An unused letter pad.
My best friend,
whose whereabouts
I will never know.
A record left on the turntable.
An unread liner note.
I tend to the pots.
Perhaps I’ve loved them too much.
I cut away the damaged leaves.
Ah.
It hurts, doesn’t it.
Circulation—
I heard the word.
Perhaps I’ve loved them too much.
I cut away the damaged leaves.
Ah.
It hurts, doesn’t it.
Circulation—
I heard the word.
May 28, 2026 at 12:35 PM
I tend to the pots.
Perhaps I’ve loved them too much.
I cut away the damaged leaves.
Ah.
It hurts, doesn’t it.
Circulation—
I heard the word.
Perhaps I’ve loved them too much.
I cut away the damaged leaves.
Ah.
It hurts, doesn’t it.
Circulation—
I heard the word.
Somewhere in a forest,
there were two trees in love.
Beneath the earth,
their roots intertwined so deeply,
quietly holding one another up.
But promise me—
you will not take away my sky,
and I will not break your silence.
Let us remain beside each other,
still carrying our own solitude,
there were two trees in love.
Beneath the earth,
their roots intertwined so deeply,
quietly holding one another up.
But promise me—
you will not take away my sky,
and I will not break your silence.
Let us remain beside each other,
still carrying our own solitude,
May 28, 2026 at 12:03 PM
Somewhere in a forest,
there were two trees in love.
Beneath the earth,
their roots intertwined so deeply,
quietly holding one another up.
But promise me—
you will not take away my sky,
and I will not break your silence.
Let us remain beside each other,
still carrying our own solitude,
there were two trees in love.
Beneath the earth,
their roots intertwined so deeply,
quietly holding one another up.
But promise me—
you will not take away my sky,
and I will not break your silence.
Let us remain beside each other,
still carrying our own solitude,
If somewhere in the world
there is a tree
wrapped in a blanket, lying down,
not knowing what to do with its branches,
call for me.
Let me lie there with you,
held by your branches,
with a little space between us,
and together,
let us watch the moon outside the window.
there is a tree
wrapped in a blanket, lying down,
not knowing what to do with its branches,
call for me.
Let me lie there with you,
held by your branches,
with a little space between us,
and together,
let us watch the moon outside the window.
May 28, 2026 at 11:15 AM
If somewhere in the world
there is a tree
wrapped in a blanket, lying down,
not knowing what to do with its branches,
call for me.
Let me lie there with you,
held by your branches,
with a little space between us,
and together,
let us watch the moon outside the window.
there is a tree
wrapped in a blanket, lying down,
not knowing what to do with its branches,
call for me.
Let me lie there with you,
held by your branches,
with a little space between us,
and together,
let us watch the moon outside the window.
If everything my eyes behold is a part of me,
Then all things and all beings are dearly loved.
Those basking in the summer sunlight,
Tourists from far-off lands,
The dusty clamor of the city streets,
Seagulls gliding past the window,
Silvery wings that carve the sky,
Then all things and all beings are dearly loved.
Those basking in the summer sunlight,
Tourists from far-off lands,
The dusty clamor of the city streets,
Seagulls gliding past the window,
Silvery wings that carve the sky,
July 7, 2024 at 5:53 AM
If everything my eyes behold is a part of me,
Then all things and all beings are dearly loved.
Those basking in the summer sunlight,
Tourists from far-off lands,
The dusty clamor of the city streets,
Seagulls gliding past the window,
Silvery wings that carve the sky,
Then all things and all beings are dearly loved.
Those basking in the summer sunlight,
Tourists from far-off lands,
The dusty clamor of the city streets,
Seagulls gliding past the window,
Silvery wings that carve the sky,
February 15, 2024 at 8:43 AM
February 15, 2024 at 1:51 AM
青い硝子の小瓶に入った液体は
ただの水で
何かの枝が挿してあり
生きるのに疲れた枝が
ため息をつくたびに
生への執着のような根が伸びた
色々な知識を持った人へ
この水を飲んだら
安心して眠れますか？
February 14, 2024 at 1:25 PM
青い硝子の小瓶に入った液体は
ただの水で
何かの枝が挿してあり
生きるのに疲れた枝が
ため息をつくたびに
生への執着のような根が伸びた
色々な知識を持った人へ
この水を飲んだら
安心して眠れますか？
I wept, burying my face in the wall of an ancient church.
Vines cascading down embraced my shoulders.
Tearfully, I wished to be buried within the wall.
The vines nodded in pity.
The boundary between body and wall grew ambiguous.
Unseen and unjudged,
I vanished.
I erased myself.
#poetry
Vines cascading down embraced my shoulders.
Tearfully, I wished to be buried within the wall.
The vines nodded in pity.
The boundary between body and wall grew ambiguous.
Unseen and unjudged,
I vanished.
I erased myself.
#poetry
February 14, 2024 at 1:08 PM
I wept, burying my face in the wall of an ancient church.
Vines cascading down embraced my shoulders.
Tearfully, I wished to be buried within the wall.
The vines nodded in pity.
The boundary between body and wall grew ambiguous.
Unseen and unjudged,
I vanished.
I erased myself.
#poetry
Vines cascading down embraced my shoulders.
Tearfully, I wished to be buried within the wall.
The vines nodded in pity.
The boundary between body and wall grew ambiguous.
Unseen and unjudged,
I vanished.
I erased myself.
#poetry
February 9, 2024 at 12:40 PM