As you're reading this book of poetry, my hope is that the theme of passage through change and transformation will emerge. I took pains to order the poems in such a way that, in the end, the order in which you read them will make no matter; hopefully the theme will come through regardless.

While the poems are original, and of both lesser and loftier significance, the theme of transformation is serious-and an unavoidable cliché. Poetry often displays the annoying tendency toward acting that way-taking itself too seriously- and these poems run that risk.

Within the theme (and experience) of change and transformation, there's an alchemy at work. It creates an embarrassment of writing richness. When I wrote and assembled my poems within such a serious cliché, I attempted to own it as a defiant form of play-to just put it all out there, and, at the end of the day, all I want to do is play along the pathways I travel, just like when I was a child. Like a child, I am wearing my insides on the outside through these pages.

On the first anniversary of my father's death, I stumbled online into the Japanese word "ohigan." Ohigan, meaning "the other shore," is a weeklong Japanese national holiday which occurs twice a year, during the autumnal and vernal equinoxes. During the equinox weeks of Ohigan, the Japanese traditionally take the time to pause, reflect, and remember their ancestors. Gravesites are cleaned, prayers are lifted, offerings of fresh flowers and food are made.

Since the first anniversary of my father's death, I have adopted ohigan as a practice in my life. Twice a year, on the equinoxes, I give myself the simple gift of taking dedicated time to reflect on my loved ones (deceased and alive), and I quite naturally become self-reflective. In this book of poems, I attempt to share some of the essence of my reflections on my own small and large journeys of change. The writing has been helpful for me. Sharing my poems always makes me feel less alone in the world. My hope is the reader finds the poems helpful, and somehow less alone in the world as well. At the very least, I hope the poems cause the reader to raise a quizzical eyebrow from time to time.