He asked me, “How do you know the weeds and flowers have no soul?”

I told him, “The soul of the weeds and flowers is the same as ours. Stay where you are, don’t rush away.”

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

Do you believe a wildflower has a soul?

☘️A Pink Bud of Sunlight. I Call You... The What What?

Dew teases, wind sulks, why are you still so calm?

Stunningly graceful, the dawn is envious of you.

Just stay demure! I’ll go to find the pink bud of sunlight for you.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.

The clouds embraced the wind.

The sun held an umbrella.

A skylark nodded,

flew back and forth,

then perched on the young woman’s shoulder.

Eyes half-closed,

she caressed her salt-and-pepper hair.

Two years have passed,

she no longer dreams.

Thank you for reading.

Yoshiko Amemiya

Jan 29, 2026

The fragrant scent of smoke from someone’s charcoal stove wafts into the air,

forming a bright blue with vibrant curves.

The butterfly sniffs and tastes the strange smoke.

With eyes half-closed for a moment,

it looks up at the sun spreading its golden wings.

Then, the butterfly remains still and motionless.

Somehow, it is uninterested in searching for the jasmine pistil today.

Thank you for reading.

***

The train accelerates

while the bronchi spin.

The bronchi continue to breathe,

striving to break free from the train.

The clouds become agitated.

A bolt of lightning hits unexpectedly.

The red flamboyant

shifts to a bluish-gray hue.

Thank you for reading.

repay?

***

Dust Dissolves in Rain — Saturday Afternoon Refrain

The rain sings, the wind calls, I'm still here.
A moment of leisure to wash away life’s chaos.
A wild orchid for those I have affection for.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for reading.

***

She clung
Addicted
Couldn’t stop
The tighter she held…the more she slipped.
One day…she let go.
"Oh…my hands…don’t hurt anymore."

Thank you for reading.

***

By the window frame, a pure white color,
Blue rose mourns yellow lily,
reminiscing about the days,
danced under the rain bubbles together.
Where did those days go?
Heartbeats stopped,
unready to say goodbye,
no promise of a next life.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for reading.

People sit gazing at the stars in the sky. As for me, I sit and count every single “like” that life gives me.

— Yoshiko Amemiya

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Yoshiko Amemiya

Reflections, short stories, and poetry exploring human emotions and everyday life.

Love is like a fallen star fruit.

Love is like the purple crepe myrtle blossoms on a summer tree.

Silence is like a symphony of cicadas singing “vee vee.”

Silence is not a breathless end.

Silence is the search for a way to be free.

People might say that love and silence cannot walk hand in hand.

But in my view, silence in love is not poor; it is simply imperfect.

So, when they come together, they complement each other, creating a unique version.

What do you think about this?

You rejoiced, fluttering around my feet,

you, you landed in the palm of my hand.

But you have gone, you, you have already gone.

In just a fleeting moment,

I didn’t even get a chance to call your name.

Your form was small,

but your heart was never small.

Oh, you, how could you leave me like this?

I pray you won’t reincarnate.

Any form of life is filled with suffering,

like me, being human holds no joy.

Thank you for reading.