束
束ねるために生まれた字
縛るために響く音
ひとつにする力と
自由を奪う影が
交互に胸を揺らしてく
「束縛」「拘束」
声に出せば重くなる
絡み合うまなざし
擦れ合う規範
ほどけない思い込み
動けず 解けず ほどけず
呼吸を奪われて
光のない檻に変わる
―――「 花 束 」
その響きは まるで反転
一本一本の色と形
違うのに
束ねられて 響き合い
寄り添って 灯りになる
手のひらに残る温もり
部屋を照らすやわらかな光
そこにあるのは 押しつけじゃない
重なりの音
結びのよろこび
社会も 組織も 似ている
違う想いが集まり
同じ方向へ束ねられるとき
それは縛りではなく
花束になる
消さず 壊さず 閉じ込めず
互いの色を尊びながら
並ぶとき
束は重荷じゃなく
明日を支える力に変わる
束は問いかける
縛るために？
響くために？
選び方ひとつで
景色は変わる
音の響きも
色の明滅も
束は問い
人は応える
その往復のリズムの中で
まだ名もない物語が
静かに芽吹いていく
束（Taba）
A word born to bind,
a sound made to tie.
The force that gathers into one
and the shadow that steals freedom
take turns stirring my chest.
“Constraint.” “Bondage.”
Spoken aloud, they grow heavier.
Entangled gazes,
rubbing codes of conduct,
beliefs that will not come undone.
Unable to move,
unable to loosen,
unable to breathe—
the air hardens into a cage
where no light remains.
―― *Bouquet*
Its echo is the inversion itself.
Each stem, each color, each shape
different,
yet bound together they resonate,
lean close,
and become light.
The warmth that lingers in my palm,
the gentle glow filling a room—
it is not imposition,
but the sound of harmony,
the joy of connection.
Society too,
and the structures we live within,
are much the same.
When differing hearts
are gathered toward a single direction,
it ceases to bind
and becomes a bouquet.
Neither erasing nor breaking,
nor shutting away—
when colors honor each other
and stand side by side,
the bundle is no longer a burden
but a strength that carries tomorrow.
The bundle asks:
to bind?
or to resonate?
With one choice,
the scenery shifts—
the sound,
the flicker of color.
The bundle is a question,
and we are its reply.
In that pulse of exchange,
a nameless story
quietly begins to bloom.
