Stillness Between Guardians
A lion of stone. A palm of breath. This reflection reveals what remains after narrative dissolves: a sacred equilibrium at the edge of storm. A print shaped by reverence, held in quiet fidelity…
The Edge Before Rain
A haibun for the moment before sound: carved breath and rising palm held in sacred alignment. The image does not speak. It receives. A hush, a haiku, and the sky holding its tongue…
Between Two Sentinels
The air leans inward. The camera waits. Beneath stone and sky, the poem arrives like thunder withheld. Not an act of taking—but a listening between watchers who never once blink…
Beneath the Listening Sky
The lion and the palm do not face us. They regard a horizon beyond naming. In the hush before stormlight breaks, the artist becomes breath, not observer. A haiku emerges in the silence, folded between reverence and rain…
