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TODAI-JI
The snow capped mountainstares at the December skyshredding laughing clouds.I sit by the fire dreamingof the slow approach of spring. There is a momentwhen all is only silencethe zendo in stillness.In that moment I can hearthe entirety of Dharma The temple bell tolls,the deer assume their posture,afternoon zazen,I walk around Todai-jiin futile search of Buddha.
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JANUARY
It is an odd feeling, in the middleof January, to no longer considerbecoming a bear, choosingto hibernate until Spring arrivesdemanding an awakening. I did that for years, nevergrew the heavy fur coat neededand wasn’t much for digging densin the snow, so I sat insideand dreamed of bearishness. Living now among the birdswhere we shiver when…
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DRINKING TEA IN KABUL*
Rockets flash brieflyacross the chilled sky,plumes of smoke, ashcarried offby impending winter. Over the lintel of the entryto the Inter-Continental Hotel Chicago,carved deeply into the marbleEs Salamu Aleikumstaring implacablythrough ponderousbrass framed doorsonto the Miracle Mile.Countless guestspass below itunseeing. My son and Isit across a small tablespilling bits of tapasonto the cloth,laughing lightlyat the young boybathed…
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SNOW
At first it was just oddto think of snow as merelya concept, a memory softer,more pleasant than its reality. You can grow accustomedto concepts, they are generallysomewhat neat and tidy, easilyfiled and brought forth on demand. The concept of snow hasits great advantages, snowmenof perfect shape, never meltingand no one must shovel a concept. But…
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QUESTION POSED, AWAITING A RESPONSE
I stooped and spoketo a stone, asking the question.I was here before you arrivedand I will be her long after you leave.I held the sand in my handwarm from the sun, asking the question.I came after your arrivedand I will leave long before you are gone.I held the winter wind on the tipof a finger,…
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NO BIALYS TODAY
No one looked up when the Buddhawalked into the deli and took a seatat the counter, “Pastrami on rye, andlean, with mustard on the side, and twoslices of full dill and a side of slaw.” As he sipped the Dr. Brown’s CreamSoda, the waitress smiled at him,asked, “Are those robes comfortable,winter isn’t all that far…
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FEEDER
The seed specklesthe snow like buckshotpiled neatly under the branchwhere we, fingers numbed,tied the little chaletto the lowest limbof the ancient maple.The birds stand staringas the squirrel swingsslowly in the breeze. First Appeared in Echoes, March – April 1996.
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AUDITIONS DAILY
It should be easy, my friend said,to imagine yourself a characterin a novel you particularly like,like I’ve found myself in any numberof Tom Clancy novels, since I caneasily become a CIA agent, it fits me. I know I’d shoot myself in the footor worse, and I’d keep no secretsif you even threatened to torture me,and…
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HAKUUN’S BLACK AND WHITE 鐵笛倒吹 十四
Like Hakuunshun the city,flee the townsand find a homein the forest onlyin the deepest partof winter, butdo not shun peoplein your solitude. Write versesof total silenceand dig deeply intonewly fallen snow.Let it drift over youuntil you black hairis all that appearson an endless field of white. A reflection on case 14 of the Iron Flute…
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WINTER
As I stare out the window and watchthe snow slowly build on the limbsof the now barren crab apple, paintingit with a whiteness that bears heavily,giving the smaller branches a betterview of the ground in which theirfruit of the summer lies buried. I am forced to wonder if the treecontinues to watch me, if its…
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an old writer and his words 