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MEMORIAL
This woman approaches the stone, carefully places sake and cherry blossoms and leans a sotoba against it, before bowing and walking away. It is what you do for a son, she says, looking at the bibbed Jizo hoping she can protect the child who lies beneath. That woman approaches the headstone, gently places the flowers and leans…
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COYOTE SONG
Down at the butt end of the arroyo is a pond, an aneurysm in the stream that runs down from the mountains for better than a month each spring. The twisted, gnarled mesquite cluster around it, like children gazing at a corpse in utter fascination who dare not approach lest it become real and touch…
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NARA PARK
I Ducks skitter across Ara-ike pond like a perfectly thrown skipping stone. Two sit and preen on large rocks left as pedestals. A spider dragging its prey along the weathered wood railing of the bridge pauses for a moment to contemplate ducks, then moves on consumed by hunger. II Several deer languish among the wizened…
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ZEN
He has just turned two. He sits on my lap one hand clapping mine, for each of us a moment of Zen in ways no one can understand, since neither he nor I do. His laugh promises something, a future of moments like this, and yet never the same. “It is our river,” his smile…
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WALKING AMONG SAND AND PEBBLES: SHASEKI-SHU
CUP OF TEA 沙石集 一 When the cup is half full what more can be added? In the garden, the moon can exist in a full cup or one only half full. It is the empty cup that can hold entire universes, infinite in capacity. FINDING A DIAMOND 沙石集 二 There are endless paths…
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A DIFFERENT SKY
We lie on a hill side by side, staring up at the passing clouds, discerning shapes, both of us break into a smile, each of us sees a completely different sky. After some time I reach out and touch her hand, our fingers interlace, or perhaps it is she who reached out to me, fingers intertwined.…
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STONE
Off the pier in Santa Barbara a young child throws a stone into the quiet ocean. Later an imperceptible wave slips quietly into Yokohama harbor. In Big Sur a Monarch butterfly slips from her chrysalis on tentative gossamer wings and takes flight. Later, still, I stand on the Boston Commons and cast a momentary smile.
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TOKYO
Walking the grounds of Senso-ji Temple, I look among the statues, half expecting Buddha or Kannon Bosatsu to appear, but only a pigeon answers my expectations. Lighting a joss bundle and placing it into the burner I imagine for a moment that I am zainichi, but the giggles of a flock of uniformed schoolgirls reminds me cruelly…
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SOTO ZEN
The gong reverberates, its depth hangs in the air, fades like a slowly retreating army. The zafu is at once coarse and caressing, nestling me as I settle down into becoming one with the earth, the zabuton, a fluid translator. The mokugyo’s rhythm lies deep within my chest. The incense settles on my tongue, an acrid sweetness,…
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SEASIDE VILLANELLE
The ocean wind swept through the city a sudden rain washed sidewalk, shop and street, carried both dreams and sins back to the sea. For the young child, time slid by easily, life a campaign that allowed no retreat. The ocean wind swept through the city, rattled church windows, so that all could see the…
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