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CELESTIAL HARMONY
The summer sky barely pauses to consider what might be going on beneath it. Everything seems to move, there can be no stillness. Once in the rarest of whiles, the sky and the river align, and each is frozen in a stasis that defies understanding or categorization. The stars realize this and shine a moment…
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GENSHA’S IRON BOAT 鐵笛倒吹 八十語
Do not suggest you can only be enlightened on a cold day in hell unless you are prepared to carry the air conditioner across the River Styx. Even Cerberus has Buddha nature although none of the heads will say so.
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THE WATCHER
He stands transfixed on the bridge, arms outstretched, staring at the river always flowing slowly by below. He wears a garland of gold, an inscription in Hebrew, the holiest of holies, mocking those who hold him a man. Did he peer out of the corner of his eyes as they marched them across the bridge…
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THE RIVER
The river, flowing through the heart of the city never pauses to note the cafés and shops lining its banks. The couple in the wine bar look out over the river’s waters but can not imagine the sea. Among them, river, man and woman a thousand stories will go untold.
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Basho’s Staff 無門關 四十四
Do you have old Basho hidden away in your home? If you do, I will gladly give him to you, but if he is not within your walls, you should produce him immediately. If you need to cross the river walk carefully on his back on a moonless night. If there is a moon, walk…
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CONTEMPLATING
She stands on the bridge and stares down into the slowly flowing river. She wonders what it might feel like to climb the railing and pushing off, gain flight. The river would welcome her, enfold her, carry her to its heart. She will not leap this day just as she did not the day before,…
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KINKA’S ANCIENT MIRROR
A river may rub a stone until it reflects the morning sun. A jeweler may polish it and facet it until it shatters the light in ten directions. A wise man knows it is still the same stone. A reflection on Shobogenzo Case 117
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FISHING
Many years ago, I would sit in a small boat and drop my hook into the river, and wait for the bass to strike. Those were the days when a large enough fish would be served at dinner, and smaller fish were thrown back to heal in the water. I no longer fish but the…
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TRANSFORMATION
There was a time, once, when the most everything was metaphorical. That was before the great metamorphosis when everything was suddenly malleable. No one was quite certain just what happened. Most thought it was in the dead of night when they, and most everyone else was firmly in the grip of Morpheus, who was, all…
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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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an old writer and his words 