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INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY
It is easier to think about deathon a wintery evening, when so muchof life slips into stasis, and there isnothing to do but concede your mortality,and with good fortune, then slipinto sleep before being lostin a sea of depression. I must be thankful for my dreamsfor they keep the night from becomingthe little death of…
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ON ARRIVAL
This morning arrivedwith a painful slowness, the slothof irregular dreams refusing to concedeto the light struggling to creep aroundthe blinds that hide the oversize windows. It had been that sort of night,sleep arriving and departing witha frustrating lack of constancy, my bodyuncertain of its proper placement ,the mattress offering no easy solutions. Conceding the failure…
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NOT SLEEPING NOW
The kid is late again today, but thatis sadly not unusual, the old man said.I ought to get rid of him, but I knowhe needs the job to feed his family. In the meanwhile, I’ll now haveto hobble down to the meadowand hope my collie, who’s as old as I,is up to the job of…
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THE EDGE OF DREAMS
On the razor edge of dreamsthe periphery of consciousnessa face appears, and I am left to wonderwho this person is, who he might be.At first he is a childwith a pixie cut, a bowl placedover the head, the bangs cutwithout considering the face peering outand others peering in.But, as sleep washing the lastsands of consciousness…
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AGAIN THE DREAM
The dream came to him again last night. He could never be certain if it was on the barren high mesa outside Taos or in the endless sands of Morocco. It really didn’t matter, since the action of the dream took place in a restaurant, and its location was ambiance, although he suspected it did…
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TUESDAY TRUTH: BROTHER JOHN
Are you serious? You have the temerity to ask me if I am sleeping? Seriously? If, for a moment, you thought that I was sleeping, why in hell would you jostle me and then ask me if I was sleeping? And how many times do I have to tell you that I never liked the…
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ISAN’S I HAVE EXHAUSTED MYSELF 正法眼蔵 四十四
Approach the master sitting on his seat. The fool will seek answers having slept through the lesson but the wise student will bow silently and retreat having learned all there is and knowing absolutely nothing. A reflection on case 44 of Dogen’s True Dharma Eye Koans
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MORNING
It is late morning and with five hours sleep I am renting my fourth cup of coffee I look forward to night.
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SEARCH
forty-three years I’ve searched for my voice a whisper cracked hoarse one moment fluid another then silent. I shape words which fall off my tongue and lie in puddles on the floor. I step in them slipping regaining perilous toehold. I scream strangled thoughts dreams are forgotten the night laughs, she touches my forehead with…
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MEMORY OF THE VINE
The conversation flows freely, piles up on the table, amid dishes from a meal now fully consumed, as the last of the wine reluctantly cedes its grip on the bottle and settles into the glasses. In Abruzzi, the vintner imagined this, staring at the grapes pulled lovingly from the now ancient vines. As night draws…
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an old writer and his words 