Curious about you, I
search.
Chatterbox notes and second hand tales
are all I know of you.
I search. Beautiful
drops of poetry ,
tasty morsels of food,
pictures of
Japanese life,
but no you.
Finding no history
where I thought it would be,
I ask to search for thee.
We smile at your mention,
and think of things you've done.
You are
action without form.
You are a smile
from outside our window.
You are our sensei.