-
AROMA
When I smell the aroma of Nag Champaincense I think of you and I vow to lightsome several times a week.Do not ask why I think of youwith Nag Champa and not cedarwoodfor that will remain a secret,the key to which I do not have.I will burn cedarwood other daysand you will take a seat…
-
PURPOSES
Life, she said, is all aboutfinding purpose not things. It was hard to argue with her,as she overwhelmed with examples. Rice filling a small bowlholds an incense stick up and catches the ashesas they fall quietly down.. A cracked plate can situnder a plant, catching any overflow from itscareful daily watering. And old fleece jacket…
-
SENSO-JI
By hour six, the plane was just a lumbering beast dividing the sky, halfway from God knows where to nowhere special. His body cried for sleep but he knew he had to deny it. That much he had learned from prior trips. For when he landed, made his way painfully slowly into the city, it…
-
3 TANKA
Antphonal songs Mockingbirds greet the morning Great Blue Herons stare imagining their voices night sweetly welcome the dawn The great temple bell awaits the morning, the monk, its daily purpose cast deep within the metal always verging on release Smoke of incense too prostrates itself to Buddha soon a morning breeze promises enlightenment or the…
-
NARA
It was inside Nara that it finally slipped away. Its tether had grown ever weaker, the first slip was decades before, a book, brief meetings an answerless question. It stretched further in Tokyo, basin incense under the watchful third eye and hung perilously by fewer and fewer threads until, with the monks’ gentle bow, it…
-
BEFORE THE TEMPLE
They stood at the altar of the ancient temple and prayed for peace. They lit the joss bundle and placed it in the great cast iron burner. We all bathed in the smoke of a hundred bombs falling in perfect harmony.
-
NIGHT ZAZEN
The last inkin bell tone dies on the fading whisper of incense. Here and not here now and still now silence and Zen. The distant mountain kisses the moon’s curled lips.
-
VAIROCANA (NARA DAIBUTSU)
Daibutsu, you sit placidly staring down at the throng that slowly bows before you. You can small the faint essence of the joss sticks wafting from the great cast iron pot outside the massive doors. “Do not act as if the world were real” you whisper, or so it seems to my chilled ears, “it…
-
MORNING MEDITATION
Settling into perfect stillness, each of us in our brown robes on brown chairs, benches, cushions, note his entry is somewhere between the thundering of a forgotten storm or the garbage trucks crawling slowly down the street. Despite the early morning heat there is no breeze, only a large moth comes through the open windows…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 