Wherever you stand still
you can see the rainbow
but walk to find its end
this one or that one
and it will be gone
on your arrival.
Sit in the fine mist
and look at the earth –
how many colors
do you see?
rainbow
KYOSEI’S THIRTY BLOWS 正法眼蔵 四十二
Wherever you stand still
you can see the rainbow
but walk to find its end
this one or that one
and it will be gone
on your arrival.
Sit in the fine mist
and look at the earth –
how many colors
do you see?
A reflection on Case 42 of the Shobogenzo (The True Dharma Eye)
FLIGHT
One thousand cranes take flight
and there is a sudden silence
as the cat stares up, bidding them farewell.
We barely stop to notice,
despite the rainbow of colors
replacing the clouds, even the sun
seeming to pause in wonder.
Two thousand hands made this
happen, one person, unrelenting,
knowing anything less
would be nothing at all.
Each crane dips its head
in appreciation for its freedom,
no longer trapped
in a two-dimensional prison.
LIGHT
The light always enters
unseen, knowing without it
nothing can be seen. Light
sees the infinite green pallet
arrayed on a single leaf,
the complex hues of a rainbow
painting the white
wisps of morning clouds,
the blaze red
forehead of the moorhen
patrolling the pond. Light
will always willingly
share its vision
if we are not
too blind to see.
BAREFOOT
He says his favorite clouds
all wear size seven shoes.
He knows she believes
she once saw a paisley rainbow
and will never forget it.
She wears size seven shoes
and her tears can be torrential,
yet they can still nurture
the first flowers of spring.
He imagines her a butterfly
sitting on the back of his hand,
gossamer wings poised
at the thin edge of stillness.
He will not tell her this, afraid
she would think him a fool
or worse, flit wings and fly
in search of a rainbow,
just not a paisley one.
They both know that one
hides always within the clouds
that halo the mountain
whose streams feed her tears.
Those are the clouds
he knows, that always, always
run barefoot across the sky.
INDIGONE
I have always wanted
to walk into a store
and buy a rainbow.
I have seen rainbows in stores
but never the one I want,
one marked down because
it is missing a color,
perhaps indigo. How
would we really know
if indigo were truly missing?
Last week the clouds, the sun
and a post-rain mist conspired
to raise a rainbow in the eastern sky.
I saw it clearly, thought it did not
seem anchored to a distant horizon
as so many rainbows are.
I made an offer for it,
but when the clouds huddled
with the sun to consider it,
the rainbow slipped away.
I asked the clouds and sun
if they would look for it.
No, they said, rainbows
pretty much come
and go as they please.
