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WHO IS HE? 無門關 四十語
Sitting with Shakya and Maitreya in the utter stillness of early morning you each strain to hear the master’s voice. Do not take up Shakya’s bow or attempt to mount Maitreya’s horse Do not engage Hoen in discussion but look inward, hand your bow to Maitreya, the reins to Shakya. There is only one horse,…
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THE SAD LIFE OF THE WRITER
She says, “you suffer from scriptor interruptus, which makes her laugh, and she says you have to have a thought to be interrupted and we both know it has been a long while since you’ve been there, but keep holding the pen, you never know what might come out.”
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A BUDDHA SPEAKS
A three year old can easily understand that a full cup can hold nothing more but an empty cup has an infinite capacity.
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COFFEE ROASTING
They dance defiantly denying gravity as they tumble through the air. They cede their color reluctantly, Now a beige, but soon a defiant chocolate-brown, milk turning slowly dark. They entice you, their perfume perhaps too strong for some, but it draws you in and you cannot help but imagine how the thought of them will…
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LUNA BECKONS
The perigee moon hangs heavily over the city, clinging to the horizon as though it wishes to flee deep into the night, turning away the attention in inevitably draws. We are pulled toward it by some deeply felt force that we know we dare not question, for we must honor the moon’s secrets as we…
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YANGSHAN’S “DHARMA POSITIONS”
This word no longer exists. This moment is now history. Dead stars shine brightly in a midnight sky. The Buddha has a thousand names and will answer to none of them. Why do you keep calling him? A reflection on Case 14 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)
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BORROWED LIGHT
The gray, velvet curtain of clouds parted ever so briefly last night revealing a moon, growing more full of herself, as she peered out. I was there to see her, the form of smile shared between us despite the chill of the too winter-like spring. This morning the sad drooping daffodils said they saw her…
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NANSEN’S REJECTIONS 鐵笛倒吹 四十四
If you come before Master Nansen will you come holding the posture of a monk or a lay person and when Nansen turns you away how will you exit the room? Nested hands and gassho hands both are so easily manacled, why leave the room at all? A reflection on case 44 of the Iron…
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ODE TO THE CAT
I read a poem today about a cat and the memory of my last cat came to mind, and with it, the certainty that cats have an innate sense of people which people utterly lack. It may be that cats are completely ignorant of the masks we wear, or simply that they could care less…
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WAVES
If you ask me the true measure the passing moment I will tell you it is at once invaluable and, by equal measure, useless, lost in the detritus of time’s wave, now receded. Do not try to cling to it for your memory is all that is impermeable, and then only in a moment already…
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an old writer and his words 