Tuesday, 13 October 2020

A Surrealistic Adventure: Part 2


Finding himself atop the high mountain

It was cold and barren.

The trees were none and the icy shell

Made for slippery steps.

On guard for danger,

He took a sudden leap,

And soaring downward

Almost weightlessly

He flipped forward in full rotations

Loosing ultimate bearings,

He also lost count of the somersaults

Because he did not have

A starting point of reference

To mark the count.

To him, his world was blurred—

The images orbited in streaks

Through his stationary field of vision.

Finally touching ground,

He found himself near the middle of the slope—

Tumbling along with the mass of a heavenly body,

He eventually ground to a halt,

Not before sending fragments of dirt

And forest floor debris hurling into

The light air.

Regaining his vision, the Mountaineer

Could now focus clearly on infinitesimally minute details

In his new found setting—

The deer roamed freely—without fear,

Casually munching on leaves and bark.

Their quiet snorts and wet mouths

Calmly but actively moving

Were received by the onlooker

In seemingly amplified fidelity.

The fleas bouncing around

The bristly hide

Sent dull, yet penetrating

Reverberations outwardly

In retarded spherical emanations

Of crashing molecules

Battling for rest in their

Weightless equilibrium.

As he gazed around the lush forest

With all the sweet aromas

Carried in the crisp and smooth air,

There was a silent sound

Tuned with exacting precision 

Which had not an end nor a begining.

In light of this quiet energy,

The traveller took to building—

First, a Hut, then an Aqueduct,

And lastly a Basket.

The latter was finely woven

With nimble fingers

And still attention.

The materials were all

Readily available

And were worked

With ease.

Every breath

The climber took

Here, in the middle

Of the slope

Was eternal.

Every task

He set











Wednesday, 7 October 2020



Night and Day
Come and pass—

The stream,
The moon's orbit,

Nature's allowance,
The pristine waters,
The weaving creek—

The crystal sounds
Of the stone studded brook—

The sweet breath
Atop a mountain,
Rich green, payne's grey,
Cadmium yellow, and crimson


Wednesday, 30 September 2020

A Surrealistic Adventure No.1

Sliding down the slippery slope

The rank air encapsulated

The greenish grey muddy landscape

Far into the distance.

Just as the speed of descent quickened

And the body gradually lost more and more control

A fissure began to open up smoothly

Like a giant lesion in the skin of the hill.

Scrambling in confusion, the victim

Unaware of the unfolding events

In his immediate path

Found himself coasting through a vast


There was a gaping grin stretched

Forcefully across his face

And guttural laughter was found to 

Project from his interior in cloudy jets of 

Intervallic ejections.

As the speed reached a dangerous level

First the skin and flesh was lost,

Then the bones and their entrails were left behind by air resistance.

The victim continued to gain speed until

all movement seized—

His existence felt to permeate outward

In a single ring of electrically charged smoke.

In contrast, an atemporal feeling of inward collecting

Was also apparent and as always

The unity of life was present.


Tuesday, 22 September 2020

Short Circuit


Short Circuit
The story punctured
Leaves not a trace,
Past memories

Thursday, 17 September 2020

Notes on General Concept


On the Concept of the Wood Forms:
Generally speaking, the concept has evolved over the course of the wood forms' career, beginning with solid forms and morphing into hollow expressions of light, open invitations. Not to say that solid forms will not emerge at present, but in the interest in outlining the main stream of movement, this is the case. From the outset some aspects of the approach remain unchanged; namely, the necessity of a penetrating mind state (which unfailingly involves lucidity, peace and passion) from which curious forms may emerge on paper; and, the highly abstract conceptual direction where contours, solids and space act not as signs, symbols or concrete representations but as a vocabulary in and of themselves used in the composition of visual poetry, if you will, where in critical retrospective deconstruction the parts and whole may be identified as representations of metaphysical subjects of inquiry. As a material structure, the sculptures inevitably exploit physical ideas such as pull, tension, duality, harmony, compromise, mutuality, interdependence, inseparability, intrinsic non-duality, spatial interaction as equal partner, and dynamic structural balance. It may be interesting to note that these physical concepts may have assumed a greater focus in the earliest instances in titles such as "Arch", "Stretch", "Reach" and "Symbiosis".

Monday, 7 September 2020

Freeform No.3

Amidst the enveloping light
The scene's scrambling commotion
Available to the greater view—

Sudden blindness ceases not
The continuity of motion
Even at rest—

From the droning silence
Emerge empty attacks
And thunderstorms of peace


Thursday, 3 September 2020

The Onlooker No.1

 The Onlooker No.1 - September 3rd, 2020



The vast space between the onlooker and the nearby plant
Seemed like infinity.
Eyes shut—

Eyes open.
The streak of illumination
Penetrated the dusty air,
Setting aglow
The slowly migrating patches
Of grey particles—

Meanwhile outside,
The bending light made people
Crook their necks in mystery—
“How could something so miraculous
Happen so effortlessly?
Why can’t we grasp anything?
By the time we reach for it
It’s already gone!”—

In his dream, suffocating volumes
Of sparkling glitter
Flowed in
In waving walls of pressure—

His eyes were flooded
With abrasive light
And crystalline powder—

Immobilized in a seated posture,
He drifted
In space.
So light yet so weighted
Was his being—

Outside, the loud speaker
Crackled with electronic
As the deafening horn tore through
The occupied crowds—

The massive gathering
Began to rise above the ground
Whilst in a state of inattention.
The onlooker then knew
Where he was and regained
His footing.


Thursday, 20 August 2020

The Answers Were There - A Short Poem

 The wanderer traverses
Vast lands
In search of the jewell—

On the journey
Short glimpses do disturb,
Slightly stirring up
Vast questions—

Beneath the encrusted
Questions, the answers
Were always there,
Shining in the darkness
Of quiet suffocation
And smothering damnation—

The innocence of an animal,
The infinitesimal divisions of time,
The unceasing motion,
And the smiling heart.


The Essence of Relationship No.1 - 2020 


 Thank you for reading. 

View the wood forms at:mikesasakiwoodforms.etsy.com

Sunday, 9 August 2020

A morning note

The stillness of the morning air
Spreading misty forest fumes
Across the horizon—

The million year old scents
Do tint the city scape
With reminders of old—

And presently,
The sweet combo
Of rather classical tech
Amidst the mother's
Arms and breath
Does send shockwaves
Of potential and vitality
Purging through the spine.


Thursday, 6 August 2020

Another Day

Another Day

Volumes of light rain
Gently descended
Upon the city streets—

The quiet morning
Was accented by
The light grey uniform sky
And the unperturbed call
Of the gull—

The slight sway of the trees
Reminded the scene was real
And not a photograph,
The day was about to begin,
A day like billions before it,
Through trillions of eyes,
Ears and hands.
Could all this activity
Lead back to one mind?—
The heart of man,
The heart of love?


Thursday, 30 July 2020

The walk of a thousand walks - A short poem

The walk of a thousand walks

The sun beamed with bright intensity,
The strength of Life—

Walking out by trees and cars,
Life dawned again and again
A thousand times over—

We feel, see, hear
But the ground is closer—

The sun burns down
Hotter in its cry—

"Now is all!
I shine for you.
I love you.
For we shine together
And all is you."


See the woodforms at: mikesasakiwoodforms.etsy.com

Being No.1 - 2020

Tuesday, 28 July 2020

The Vastness of Potential

The Dawning of Light No.1 - 2020

On the journey without destination
I wait, shift, turn and go—
Soft ground with hard pebbles
Does cradle my steps
With relief and truth—
Amidst the vastness of the cosmos
We breathe and die
Yet life and nature
Remain unchanged.


See the wood forms at: mikesasakiwoodforms.etsy.com

Saturday, 25 July 2020

Timeless Motion - A Short Poem

Timeless Motion

Falling without time
In motionless jerks
The center dissolves
In non-cartesian euphoria

The people play and dance
To the endless music of the cosmos
So rhythmically precise and
So silent in nature

~MS 2020
The Emerging of Silence No.1 - 2020

See the woodforms at:

Thursday, 4 June 2020

Softly Skipping From Stone to Stone

Softly skipping from stone to stone,
the evanescent curtain appears before

The shimmering blue and silver hues
ripple and wave in weightless obscurity–

The world transformed in a slicing instant,
what stood before one is all around one–

Engulfed in eternity, the heart beats
in timeless pulses, drumming out rings
of colourless waves, fusing with nothingness–

The silent scream, echoes across the earth
as crusts tremble and seas swell
with momentous humility and unspoken truth–

In humiliating recognition,
the head turns down and in,
only to find that neutral intensity of grace and clarity,
the sea of colourless waters,
the pure essence of love and gratitude,
which flows through every atom
and lifts every chin in exaltation and life.

MS 2020

See wood forms at mikesasakiwoodforms.etsy.com

Thursday, 28 May 2020

Free Form Poem No.2

There hung the muted dye patterns
Softly decorating the surface of
The cloth which
Undulated gently in the breeze.

Engaged in the rippling tides of time,
Peering deeply into the depths of design,
There, the eye was met
With the eternal bead of timeless delight—
Glowing through from ages past—
Now there was the sun.

~Mike Sasaki 2020

See the wood forms at: mikesasakiwoodforms.etsy.com

Tuesday, 25 February 2020

Unwavering Intent - A Poem

Unwavering Intent

The cement lamp pole
Wavers not in the racing winds of fortune.
Rigidly planted in the ground,
The adhesive powers bind strongly its constituents.

Nature's tree does brush the pole
With a reaching branch in flexible oscillation.

Icey cold, its breathless stance
Continues unfaltering amidst
Such kind surroundings.

The lamplight flickers out one rainy night.
The repair workers do replace the bulb
Despite the soaking downpour.
The pole, unaffected,
Water dribbling down its conical body,
Never utters a sound
As night evolves into day
And the distant mountains crumble in time.

~Mike Sasaki
Feb. 25, 2020

The Root of Time No.3
Thank you for reading on Behind The Woodforms.
The Root of Time No.3 and other sculptures are available at: mikesasakiwoodforms.etsy.com