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EVERYWHERE BUT HERE OR THERE
It is odd, when you stop and think about it, that our sense of place is dictated by places other then here. For centuries we were the center of the universe, and all celestial bodies moved around us — without us, no movement, but if t here were no suns, moons, planets or stars to…
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HOJU TURNS HIS BACK 鐵笛倒吹 七十二
If a beggar approaches do you turn away from him. If a rich man calls to you, do you receive him openly. How do you tell them apart? If a poor thief in fine, stolen silks stands before you what do you offer in welcome, and what for his battered victim now wearing the thief’s…
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A CLIO MOMENT
Each morning I should take a moment and seriously question whether I have any history or should want any. Each day I know in that moment that I have the option of being reborn, of being someone who never existed before, and the price of this is shedding all of my former selves, an erasure…
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GOD HAS COME, OR NOT
It is the wet season when the rains wash the village carrying off the detritus of poverty. On the adobe wall of the ancient town hall some villagers say a face appeared one morning. To some it was the face of Christ to others that of an old man a former mayor, perhaps, to most…
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RINZAI PLANTS A PINE 鐵笛倒吹 十八
If you have a seed in your pocket what will you do with it? Even a small seed planted carefully in the middle of a forest may take hold and grow. Tamp the soil with your toe three time, three times again secure in knowing this tree will never provide you shade. A reflection on…
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NIGHT MOTHER
The night closes in chasing the sun, dragging heavily laden clouds that stare down, watching warily for us to step outside without glancing skyward. Clouds of night are particularly jealous, most often ignored if not completely forgotten, unsure which would be worse, ultimately indifferent. As we begin the walk to the car the clouds open,…
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ON LANDING
They have a youth that you think should make you envious, poured into clothing that would be a second skin, if skin were silk and polyester, patterned tights hair ironed straight, colored highlights and you still recall when this what a fascinated you, when you would have found it alluring. You probe the corners of…
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WAITING ROOM, WAITING GAME
They are arrayed like so much stacked cord wood, pressed against walls indifferent to their presence. They watch the double doors leading to the examining rooms with trepidation, wanting to be next, wanting more not to be here at all, knowing the options are none. He isn’t bothered by it all, this is old hat…
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GYOZAN’S OBJECTS 鐵笛倒吹 二十七
If a thousand objects are arrayed before you what will you do, what do you call them? A sphere has no edges, I can reach through a cloud. Why would I try to cut a moment in two, or stuff a cloud in my pocket. A reflection on Case 27 of the Iron Flute Koans
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WE HEAR YOU
He loves looking at the sky, particularly at night for he knows someday they will contact him, and if not him, someone else who, like him, loves looking at the sky. He has no idea what the message will be he isn’t sure he, or anyone, will be able to understand it, but he is…
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an old writer and his words 