Horologium Vitae: A Pilgrimage of Hours Into the Pure Land Of Great Peace
Grace is eternal. Love is infinite.
A mercy of peace, a sacrifice of praise.
HEIWA WO!
Deliverance
In stillness
Things become clear
I know not
Lord have mercy
Walk bold karumi
Love tender
Through unearned grace
All compassion
Seek pardon give thanks
Time being
Will to love
Work to praise
Joy secured
Live in peace
Fear not robbers
O Lord, open thou our lips. Thou also shalt light my candle. O quicken me in thy righteousness. God Be All in All
Invocation
As a weary hart seeks the shaded brook below the falls,
I seek your hidden face Lord to sustain me.
Lost in the wood— Eluded by your mystery,
I drank my briny tears not finding you. But the memory of your grace gives me strength to persevere,
To praise you in this wilderness
As though I were among the sacred timbers of the temple cedars.
Soul be not troubled. Spirit be glad. Trust in God.
Let praise echo from here to the hilltop at Hermon
To the riverbank at Jordan.
Hidden deep behind deep beneath deep you beckon me
In whispers of whitewater from the forest. By day I cling to your mercy, by night I sing you songs.
My prayers are readied.
Lord! Let me see your face.
Spare me these wanderings.
Protect me from my enemies.
Save me even from myself.
Give me strength to persevere,
To praise you in this wilderness
As though I were among the sacred timbers of the temple cedars. Amen
Soul be not troubled. Spirit be glad. Trust in God.
Let praise echo from here to the hilltop at Hermon
To the riverbank at Jordan
Until the piercing sunlight marks the sure path
And again I am blessed as in my youth to kiss the altar
On that holy mount in your Jerusalem.
I
Overwrought, I cried out to God and He heard me:
Lord, extinguish the forge of my spiteful tongue—
Silence the false and wounding words That like arrows have grown deadlier in the furnace.
Peace cannot be won through malice. For too long I have dwelt among the tents of Qedar.
For too long I have dwelt among nations which cavil and quarrel
All around me without cause.
II
Looking out, I can see the mountains Whereon my help gathers like clouds— My help flows from God the maker of Heaven and Earth.
Vigilant Lord, let not my heel slip on the field of battle.
Let my raised right hand wield the might of your power.
Shield me from the burning of the sun and the cunning of the moon.
Harden my flanks and guard my soul. Keep me safe on all sides now and forever. Amen
III
To stand inside your heavy gates, Jerusalem,
To gaze on the beauty of your tall towers Tightly nestled within your thick walls,
To rest at the holy city where footfalls of the righteous
Climbing up to the temple in clamorous praise once shook your streets—
Pray as in the past for a prosperous peace for Jerusalem and for all virtuous nations. May the bounty of our hearths and larders never flag.
Pray for a lasting peace for the sake of brothers and neighbors.
May the glory of the house of God be the source of countless blessings.
Lord of Heaven! I turn to you with the keen eyes of a dutiful servant
Eager to be summoned by his master. Lord of Lords! I turn to you with the tender eyes of a devoted maid Anxious to please her mistress. Mighty God! Have mercy on us! Have mercy.
Too often we suffer humiliation
At the hands of the powerful and the proud.
Too often we suffer the scars and the shame
Of cruel exploitation.
V
Let it be said had the Lord not been with us,
Let it be written had the Lord not been with us,
We surely would have been swallowed alive
By armies of evil men rising up against us, Angry armies of evil men rising up against us
Like thunderous floodwaters to swallow us alive.
Hallelujah! Saved from the jagged teeth of doom.
Just as the sprung trap can be unhinged like jaws,
Our souls have been rescued like a thrush from a hunter’s cage.
Our help is the very name of God the maker of Heaven and Earth!
VI
With Zion set free from the specter of captivity,
We were like men in the depths of dread sleep suddenly dreaming.
Smiles begot laughter, laughter begot joy, and joy begot praise.
Louder and louder the praise of the Lord God grew
So that even in faraway lands the might of the Lord was known.
God is great! God is truly great!
Where we sowed in sorrow now we reap in joy.
Seeding of bitterest tears brought forth a harvest of happiness.
Backs burdened only by sheaves we are coming Lord to praise you.
VII
Like ancient Mount Zion the faithful will ever be rooted deeply
In Jerusalem.
There the Lord shelters His people as the surrounding hills shelter
His city.
There in His holy city the Lord provides for the needs of the righteous
Above all else as long as they remember Him and remain righteous.
Those who falter will feel the rod, but those who persist in crookedness
Will be led out by the staff with the rest of the unrepentant.
VIII
All who revere the Lord and walk His road shall be blessed:
The gain of your labors to your good, Your wife like fruitful vines around your eaves,
Your family like laden olive trees around your table—
Thusly blessed will be those who revere the Lord!
May the very best from Mount Zion and Jerusalem
Be yours the lengthy measure of your days.
May the children of your children’s children lie upon your breast.
IX
Masons and carpenters labor in vain to build a house
Save God make it strong.
Night watch and sentries labor in vain to protect the city
Save God keep it safe.
Those who wake at dawn and bed down late labor in vain
For bread alone
Save God give it grace.
But virtue bestowed by God greater still than these is the honed edge of children, True like arrows flying from the hand of a bowman—
Honor him who meets his enemy with a full quiver.
X
In my youth men often fought against me:
Let it not be forgotten that in my youth Many enemies often fought against Zion, But in the end always failed to break us— Our backs left brutally welted like freshly ploughed furrows.
Know the Lord God is just!
Evil will be choked out like hayseed buried in roof thatch
High and dry above the rich loam.
Evil men who hate will be shoved aside and cut down
Over and over like straw until there be not even a handful of stubble.
Neither witnesses nor passersby will utter the slightest blessing
In the name of the Lord.
Out of the depths of darkness I have cried to you Lord:
My voice faint in this void,
Please Lord, you must strain to hear me. It seems impossible for even the least imperfect to be found worthy.
Yet within your fearsome justice, God, are words of forgiveness.
I have longed after you Lord— waiting, hoping, trusting.
From sunrise to sunset let the faithful rely on God.
Compassion and redemption are yours, Fairly promised to the righteous now and forever.
XII
Alone here in this wood, Lord be my witness:
The oath I swore to forgo the comfort of my bed,
To abstain from sleep, to shun even shutting my eyes,
To renounce all relief until precious ground be consecrated
According to your purpose— I kept. Many shall come and stand where I have stood to worship in your presence: Raised up, Lord, for your glory and for the holy ark of power.
I kept my oath so that priests might again minister justice among the people,
So that the people might better keep the righteous ways of their fathers.
Your covenant ordains that the throne of Zion shall pass to my son,
And to his son, and to his sons, for eternity,
Should the anointed of my line likewise keep the righteous ways taught to our fathers.
Lord, God of my Fathers, you dearly chose Zion.
You chose to dwell in Zion.
You chose Zion for evermore.
You have generously blessed the old and the helpless
And comforted the sick and the poor.
You have clothed your priests in virtue and cloaked our enemies in shame. Glory be!
XIII
Lord, my heart is not haughty,
My eyes not too proud.
I have never sought greatness nor courted high laurels:
My soul quieted and humbled by your goodness
Like a little child nursing on the lap of his mother.
Rest in the Lord. Trust in God.
Benediction
Behold, for all men to live together peacefully as one, like brothers, is best: As mingled oils washed over the head Run down into the beard and drip onto garments and feet
In rivulets of one dizzying fragrance— Like morning mist from the hilltop at Hermon drifts down Mt. Zion
Where the breath of God our Father sweetens life itself.
All who stand ready to serve in the house of God
Give thanks and praise the Lord.
At nightfall, raise your hands toward the altar in reverence
And bless the Lord.
May the Lord God the maker of Heaven and Earth hold us fast
And keep our spirits near Zion wherever we may be. Amen
The sun is close to me, and the stars are upon me.
—Khalil Gibran
Psalm 46:10
True kindness is a pure divine affinity,
Not founded upon human consanguinity
It is a spirit, not a blood relation,
Superior to family and station
—Henry David Thoreau
Like tiny drops of crystal rain,
In every life the moments fall,
To wear away with silent beat,
The shell of selfishness o’er all.
And every act, not one too small,
That leaps from out the heart’s pure glow,
Like ray of gold sends forth a light,
While moments into seasons flow.
Athwart the dome, Eternity,
To Iris grown resplendent, fly
Bright gleams from every noble deed,
Till colors with each other vie.
’Tis glimpses of this grand rainbow,
Where moments with good deeds unite,
That gladden many weary hearts,
Inspiring them to seek more Light.
—Zitkala-Sa
falling snow—
too brilliant a rainbow
in my dream
—Masajo Suzuki
first snow angel
my prayer
renews
There’ll be a shower a nun has greeted me as I am
—Hosai Ozaki
On a white wall
shadow of alpine rose
a nun passes by
—Mitsu Suzuki
Clear the impurity in the water of my heart.
—Zeami
Mass on the World
READER 1:
Since once again, Lord...I have neither bread, nor wine, nor altar, I will raise myself beyond these symbols, up to the pure majesty of the real itself; I, your priest, will make the whole world my altar and on it will offer you all the labors and sufferings of the world. Over there, on the horizon, the sun has just touched with light the outermost fringe of the eastern sky. Once again, beneath this moving sheet of fire, the living surface of the earth wakes and, once again, begins its fearful travail.
I will place on my paten, O God, the harvest to be won by this renewal of labor. Into my chalice I shall pour all the sap which is to be pressed out this day from the earth’s fruits. My chalice and my paten are the depths of a soul laid widely open to all the forces which in a moment will rise up from every corner of the earth and converge upon the Spirit. Grant me the remembrance and the mystic presence of all those whom the light is now awakening to a new day.
READER 2:
One by one, Lord, I see and I love all those whom you have given me to sustain and charm my life. One by one, I also number those who make up that other beloved family which has gradually surrounded me, its unity fashioned out of the most disparate elements, with affinities of the heart, of scientific research, and of thought. And one by one—more vaguely, it is true, yet all- inclusively—I call before me the whole vast anonymous army of living humanity; those who surround me and support me though I do not know them; those who come and those who go; above all, those who in office, laboratory, and factory,
through their vision of truth or despite their error, truly believe in the progress of earthly reality and who today will again take up their impassioned pursuit of the light. This restless multitude, confused or orderly, the immensity of which terrifies us; this ocean of humanity whose slow, monotonous wave-flows trouble the hearts of even those whose faith is most firm; it is to this deep that I thus desire all the fibers of my being should respond. All the things in the world to which this day will bring increase; all those that will diminish; all those, too, that will die: all of them, Lord, I try to gather into my arms so as to hold them out to you in offering.
This is the material of my sacrifice, the only material you desire.
READER 1:
Once upon a time, men took into your temple the first fruits of their harvest, the flower of their flocks. But the offering you really want, the offering you mysteriously need each day to appease your hunger, to slake your thirst, is nothing less than the growth of the world borne ever onward in the stream of universal becoming.
Receive, O Lord, this all-embracing host which your whole creation, moved by your magnetism, offers you at this dawn of a new day.
READER 2:
This bread, our toil, is of itself, I know, but an immense fragmentation; this wine, our pain, is no more, I know, than a draught that dissolves. Yet in the very depths of this formless mass you have implanted— and this I am sure of, for I sense it—a desire, irresistible, hallowing, which makes us cry out, believer and unbeliever alike, “Lord, make us one.”
READER 1:
“Lord, make us one.....”
in bed longing for
the goddess of compassion
—Bosha Kawabata
THE CANTICLE OF THE SUN
Most high, all powerful, all good Lord!
All praise is Yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing.
To You, alone, Most High, do they belong.
No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce Your name.
Be praised, my Lord, through all Your creatures,
especially through my lord Brother Sun,
who brings the day; and You give light through him.
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!
Of You, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars;
in the heavens You have made them bright, precious and beautiful.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms,
and all the weather, through which You give Your creatures sustenance.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Water;
she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom You brighten the night.
He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and rules us,
and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of You;
through those who endure sickness and trial.
Happy those who endure in peace, for by You, Most High, they will be crowned.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Bodily Death,
from whose embrace no living person can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those she finds doing Your most holy will.
The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks, and serve Him with great humility.
—St. Francis of Assisi
Blessed is our God, always, now and Ever, and to the ages of ages
Sunrise
The ferryboat
Unto fountains of waters
Firefly—
Firefly—
First love—
In stargazers
In bulbs of amaryllis
In beautiful day—hope
Copying sutras in my summer retreat
I use my writing brushes
to count the days
—Buson
The Way of Common Prayer for Epiphany
Dec. 24: Stars of midnight
Firm in the heavens
The constancy of the sun
Rising
Go forth in peace and light
Dec. 25: Amid shouts of joy
The sound of trumpets
Shake the mountain
All witnesses, all light, all life
All a gift, all renewing
Dec. 26: Heaven—thrown open
Stand firm
In the face of rocks
Another face—
Grace eternal, Love infinite
Dec. 27: Running towards the tomb
Joy to share
This life unseen—joy
Complete
Face unshrouded
Dec. 28: In a dream
Called out of Egypt
Joseph settled Mary and child in Nazareth—
Roots be fruitful, give thanks,
Raise up songs and prayers to the Lord
Dec. 29: A pair of doves
Consecrated at the temple
The child of light
Salvation proclaimed
A sanctuary—Go in peace!
Dec. 30: Into the world
All that love holds
Mountains and rivers pass
Among disorder and desires
Love remains
Dec. 31: The beginning
Light from light, gifts
Out of the darkness—life
Into the world
Witnesses of the Word
Jan.1: All the earth shall see
The face of God shall shineBlessings upon you—heirs
Mostly water and light
Heirs all, reap the harvest
Jan.2: The seed planted
Tomb empty
The way prepared
Path straightened
The desert blooms
Jan.3: Behold the dove of the Spirit!
Mostly water and light
Grace eternal, Love infinite
Salvation proclaimed
All the earth shall seeJan.4: Star of midnight
Revealing the glory of the childLift up your eyes!
Face unshrouded
Until the moon is no more
Jan.5: Witnesses of the Word
All that love holds
Among mountains and rivers of the world
You earthly rulers pass
We are from God!
Jan.6: The constancy of the sun
Rising
The sound of trumpets
Amid shouts of joy
Love remains
Prayer For Good Humor
Grant me, O Lord, good digestion, and also something to digest.
Grant me a healthy body, and the necessary good humor to maintain it.
Grant me a simple soul that knows to treasure all that is good and that doesn’t frighten easily at the sight of evil,
but rather finds the means to put things back in their place.
Give me a soul that knows not boredom, grumblings, sighs and laments, nor excess of stress,
because of that obstructing thing called “I.”
Grant me, O Lord, a sense of good humor.
Allow me the grace to be able to take a joke to discover in life a bit of joy,
and to be able to share it with others.
—St. Thomas More
Vimalakirti came there, and, having saluted me, said, 'Reverend Ananda, what are you doing on the threshold of this house with your bowl in your hand so early in the morning?'
I replied: 'The body of the Lord manifests some indisposition, and he needs some milk. Therefore, I have come to fetch some.'
Vimalakirti then said to me, 'Reverend Ananda, do not say such a thing! Reverend Ananda, the body of the Tathagata is tough as a diamond, having eliminated all the instinctual traces of evil and being endowed with all goodness. How could disease or discomfort affect such a body?’
When I had heard these words, I wondered if I had previously misheard and misunderstood the Buddha, and I was very much ashamed.
Then I heard a voice from the sky: 'Ananda!...Ananda, do not be ashamed, and go and get the milk!'
—Vimalakirti Nirdesa Sutra
—The Book of Tea
Vimalakirti: Then why does the sun rise over the world?
Sariputra: It rises to illuminate the world, and to eliminate the darkness.
Thus prepared the guest will silently approach the sanctuary...the tea-room being preeminently the house of peace.
Then he will bend low and creep into the room through a small door not more than three feet in height. This proceeding was incumbent on all guests—high and low alike—and was intended to inculcate humility.
—Okakura Kakuzo
Sariputra had this thought: "There is not even a single chair in this house. Where are these disciples and bodhisattvas going to sit?"
Vimalakirti read the thought of the venerable Sariputra and said,
"Reverend Sariputra, did you come here for the sake of the Dharma?
Or did you come here for the sake of a chair?"
Sariputra replied, "I came for the sake of the Dharma, not for the sake of a chair."
I have declared to you my life.
—St. Francis
Ah! the letter “A”—the shortest of the Perfection of Wisdom sutras—vast and wide.
Tokonoma. A bowl. Ah! Takuhatsu.
A little prayer. A little gratitude.
A Benison of Thanks: Quiet as rice. Hope.
Rice basket moon mountain
—The Poetics of Space beginnings everywhere this morning
Purify your hearts, ye double-minded.
—James 4:8
Old pond A shadow Of a frog
THE GEANGO VERSES
Immortals
In fist of mountain snow
Caves of saints
Under the falls
A great burring coldness
This and only this
Let grace be equal
For all men crossing gates of death
Soft manjushaka
The everywhere of blossoms
In white of snow
According to Nansen
A word of life
Keeps the cat being torn in two
Hemispheres put back
Together spare a word...MEOW
Like a tropic wind, chuffing
Unhurried lion
Old Hermit Badpenny himself
Sun-blessed out of the blue
Copper lion
Bellyful of digested sheep
A perfect wonder
The world is vast and wide.
Settled by the Third Khandaka,
a period of rest and residence during the rainy season was customary for itinerant Buddhist monks and priests—this period began the 16th day of the 4th lunar month and ended the 15th day of the 7th lunar month, corresponding to a period of roughly twelve weeks from mid-May to mid-August known as the summer retreat.
It was a time to seek out new teachers, see old friends, make new ones, and most importantly reflect on one’s own path—
the Way, Ch’an.
Wren
Pecking at a cherry
Sunrise
Traveling alone from India, Bodhidharma brought Ch’an Buddhism to China in the late 5th century. However, Ch’an Buddhism would not flourish in China for another 200 years.
One peace
Mountain road
All sweetness
Buddhism had spread to Japan by way of Korea, but it was not until around 1200 that Ch’an, known as Zen, became a distinct school recognizing Bodhidharma, called Daruma, as its founder.
There is a notable portrait of Bodhidharma painted by Japanese Zen monk Sesson Shukei simply titled Daruma from the 1500s. There is, in the British Museum, a very similar portrait once thought to be a Sesson but now regarded as a fake.
side by side
Daruma Daruma eye
no birth, no death
Two views. One face. One truth.
Well Come!
Old Hermit Badpenny spends the rainy season at his home Hermitage Hermitage, so named because it is easy to remember and easy to forget.
Hut like an acorn
Heart strong like an oak, weathered
Straw hat and raincoat
In my hut no coins are kept.
No coming. No going.
In this rain, a bowl of hot tea would be nice. Rainwater makes especially good tea too. Clouds like bees collecting nectar here and there—drops sweet as honey. Each drop falling nowhere else. Falling on you.
Have a cup of tea—
You cannot acquire what you have
Not tasted
Boiled egg
In a jar of vinegar—
Eat it with salt
Rujing said sit. With stillness, many things become clear.
Rainy season
Mosses round roots thick and green
Trackless path of birds
Like a reflection dissolved by ripples of a single raindrop:
Two views. One face. One truth.
Like the seasons, the sound of the bell notes the time, summoning monks to meditation. Each monk meditating on the same thing in his own way.
Clear the way—individual
in greater unity. Chanting—
individuals in higher harmony.
Fireflies dusk stars dawn
Such blessings deep in our hearts
Sound as temple bell
The sound of the bell and the echo. Two views. One face.
The sound of one hand. One slapping truth.
Going and coming
I expect no visitors
Only a great wind
The rainy season is long and muddy.
Clouds and waters, swelling and growing,
flowers bud, flowers bloom without complaint.
What more—
A single violet
In a meadow
Mostly water and light.
So very dear
Sitting, sipping Uji tea:
Sit. Have a cup.
31 Syllables on Suffering
Gone, gone beyond, gone
Altogether gone beyond—
A wakened flower!
Posy form emptiness form
A flower I present you
Mountainside slopes wild with azaleas.
Thousands of flowers. One mountain. Thousands of faces. One people.
Your face. Face of a stranger. One face. Two views. One truth.
The world is vast and wide—
All in this mustard seed.
zen-ji-go-ji: you hold dear treasure
So very dear
Mustard seed flowering
Mudra of mountain
zen-ji-go-ji: I keep no coins in my hut.
Hold dear your treasure
with open hands. Moment
to moment falling nowhere else.
I have listened to rain
Touching wisps serenade
Ravaging ages
All my life I listened to rain
Shaping these mountains into hearts
Moments are fleeting and lasting...
Your face. Face of a stranger. Moment to moment falling.
Grace is eternal. Love is infinite. Let kindnesses fall nowhere else.
Having nothing, yet possessing all—
All in this mustard seed.
So very dear
Humility frees all,
Each, every—one
Nothing above nothing below
Breath, light, goodwill, peace—float
So very dear
Knell of gratitude, hills
Echoing—hope hope
So very dear
Beginning of a sweetness
Rays the warming sun
Rainy seasons come and go.
In clear, clean light
Matters of everyday life
So very dear
Flowers bloom without complaint. Clutter your mind with abundant blossoms and luxuriant flowers.
So very dear
Sermon of the flowers
Beauty beyond sense
I did not hold up a flower.
One face. One truth.
Everyday reverence.
Everything delivers a sermon from its true nature and that sermon is ordinary mind.
Let kindnesses fall nowhere else.
So very dear
Forehead of the sun touching
Cherished temples, so very dear
Your own forehead
Touching foreheads with the sun
Home in world and wild
Living stones thrive with water
Rocks need tea and rice
Having had the rice, I am ready for a leisurely nap.
No coming. No going.
One face. One truth.
Mountainside slopes wild with azaleas.
Thousands of flowers. One mountain. Thousands of faces. One people.
So very dear
Roads that know me as I am
Walking
With heart full—
Lying on the ground
See Old Hermit Badpenny
Wishing you good luck
The incense stick is gone but the fragrance lingers.
Sitting long and getting tired,
another cup of tea would be nice.
Maybe these new leaves tasted fresh.
If not, try standing in the rain.
Purify your mind.
I did not hold up a flower.
Mostly water and light.
Wind-blown narcissus
Caretakers of the unseen
Work of innocence
Buddha spoke the words “so much”
to someone standing silently before him.
This and only this led to realization—
grace, love, mercy, compassion.
Startled geese rising
Ten thousand things disappear
In a sloping glance
The clap of the bell
Shakes to earth dewdrops like chains
Breaking with the dawn
Longevity
Simple wildflowers
Incense, palms together, mind
At ease, calm, peaceful...
That is what I heard: worry,
wrath, suffering—early death
So very dear
Old Hermit Badpenny himself
Nodding and laughing
Eccentric at heart
Himself Old Hermit Badpenny
Hermit of the hills
Tea leaves true gold
Everywhere you are
The world is vast and wide.
Mostly water and light.
Thinking on Jeta Grove,
Seventh month of the First year of Genko [1331].
Moon as it is, rivers flood sky.
Body
Already a corpse
What good is it?
Weightless
A single apple blossom
Touches the earth
Loving
Differences
Without difference
Letting go
Without indifference
Keyhole
In the clouds
Shape of the moon
Take this body
This bundle of burdens
Down to the river
Giving all to the current
Returning fresh, solid, and pure
Home in world and wild.
Grace is eternal. Love is infinite.
Beauty beyond sense...
Moment to moment falling.
Shinran smiles.
You in
The river
In you
Float
Flow
Without a bundle
Go
Help out, help in
Gain
Loss
Mountain and river
Gold
Dust
Happy and alive
What a miracle
Now, the third thing
Birds
The sound of morning
And birds
Morning market
Outhouse
Buzzing
The world is vast and wide.
Having nothing, yet possessing all—
Sound of waterfall
Mountain
A hollow shell
Hourglass
Now sideways
Grains of sand a sea
Measureless
Mostly water and light.
One face. One truth.
Thinking on a boulder in the Dayu Range,
A bowl and a robe sit,
Eleventh month of the First year of Genko [1331].
Drop by drop
The stone surrenders heart
Pure light
So very dear
All things, far and near, all things
So very dear
Hermitage Hermitage
Spiders grown
In every corner
Eve of harvest moon
Burrowing out rice cakes
The wood of the white rabbit
Brothers and sisters gathered on the steps of the Great Meditation Hall for a moon viewing party. Colorful paper lanterns were strung across the courtyard casting a warm glow on the paving stones and the grass growing in the borderlands between them. The moon, round and orange, hid behind the treetops as we enjoyed hot tea and lotus root mooncakes. Rising into the night, the sound of the sisters’ singing, the moon showed its face.
Bright moon
A long row of heads
Cabbage more leafy
The altar had been prepared. All the brothers and guests were seated on cushions in the Brothers’ Meditation Hall for the Sticks Ceremony. The bell. Moving, two brothers stood, the first carrying a number of small post-beam sticks on a tray approached each brother in turn who took a stick and placed it solemnly in front of him, the second coming behind with another tray to collect those same sticks. The ritual is an accounting of the presence of all the monks for the duration of the retreat.
Six buddha statues
Sitting
One with bird-poop
Next morning in the Great Hall—
Moon in morning sky
Path to meditation hall
Footprints on footprints
Both the brothers and the sisters united in the Great Hall. Bowing to each other after chanting and sitting together is yet another reaffirmation of mutual commitment to the monastic community as a whole and to keeping to the grounds of the monastery.
Gong
Singing
With voice of Great Hall
I found a dried cut tube of bamboo short enough to use as a bud vase. I went down to the vegetable garden and picked a flower from the trellis of bitter melons. Another bud is opening on the same stem, and I hope that the others will soon follow.
Bitter melon vine
Blooming sunshine
Yellow flowers
Sunlight
Standing in bamboo
Green silence
Outside my window is a row of flowering myrtles luring birds to play.
Greenfinch
Leaves behind
Stripes
Walking meditation turns past the Great Hall meadow and around along the edge of a wooded patch to a bending path that connects to the gently rising entrance of the monastery itself. The sign on the gate says:
Arrived and Home
A brother told me there used to be a path in the woods for the walking meditation to wind through...
Tick
Tick
Breathe
A puppy followed one of the brothers returning from the meadow. When I arrive at the Dining Hall, I see the pup chewing on a sandal.
Puppy
Newness of playing
Old shoe
Maybe the little hound heard about the Sticks Ceremony.
An evening of Noble Silence. Sitting before sunrise...
Lotus pond
Fetching
Moon
Stones
Remembering
Sound of purity
Dawn bell—
The owl greeting
A lone bat
One of the bitter melon buds fully blossomed today—yawning yellow.
Working meditation in the hot sun weeding the rock garden—this kind of beauty takes a bit of nurture.
Pebble
Concentric ripple
Concentric
At supper the brothers have a platter of fresh sliced watermelon. A large wedge was passed down the length of the table to me.
Cold watermelon
A tiger
All can touch
Mostly water and light—
Washing dishes together...
Relishing a crumb
Fly
On the table
I spotted an unusual rock in the garden today, but instead of picking it up I left it where it lay.
Crystalline streaks
Otherwise ordinary
Brown rock
There were many leaf showers in the soft wind—chimes.
Magnolia leaves—
green supple
brown leather
Around the Brothers’ Residence, there seem to be many unpaired sandals.
Nothing
Limits
But possibilities
Footprints on footprints...
No coming. No going.
Saying goodbyes at breakfast, fermented green papaya.
Tiny red chilis
Matter of hotness
A grain of sun
Parting a tear
Warmth
A little prayer
Gratitude
Love in the seed
Love in the fruits
Peace in the seed
Peace in the fruits
So many hands
Water the roots
Love in the seed
Love in the roots
Peace in the seed
Peace in the roots
So many hands
Gather the fruits
Everyday reverence.
Another yellow bud opened this morning.
Perhaps when I come back the otherwise ordinary brown rock in the garden will be one shining crystal.
I leave the flower pressed between these pages here for you. Find the rock yourself.
One face. One truth.
Thinking on the sweetness of sliced melon and the benefit of seeds,
Eighth month of the First year of Genko [1331].
The sound of the bell and the echo.
Between the words
Between these farthest mountains
I step among pines
Having nothing, yet possessing all—
All in this mustard seed.
Straw sandals by door
Long for hills snow high falls home
Fire kindled I warm
Star upon star upon star
Unbounded blessings
Shining bright
The frog splashes into the pond.
The fish splashes in the pond.
The frog is not a fish.
The fish is not a frog.
The splash is not a splash.
The splash is the pond.
The frog is the pond.
The fish is the pond.
You are the pond.
You are the splash.
There is no splash.
Only leap.
There is no pond.
Only leap.
There is no inside.
There is no outside.
Only leap...leaping time,
leaping birth, leaping death,
leaping clear.
Thusness, faith
penetrating body and mind,
things as they are.
Love
Loving
Plainly
A living prayer!
How truly rare this gift of life!
fragile as its slender stem,
love wastes me away.
Yet I shall blossom, crimson
under the bright noonday sun.
—Akiko Yosano
During Daruma-ichi, the annual Daruma doll festival held at the Shorinzan Temple of Daruma in Takasaki, Japan, the right eye of countless Daruma dolls is drawn in with the hope of reaching a set goal before next year’s festival. When the goal is achieved, the doll’s other eye will be colored in and at the next festival all of the dolls will be burned ceremonially with gratitude and prayers for peace by monks of the temple. Thereupon another doll will be bought and the cycle renews, as does the year. Renewal, resilience. The blank white eyes of the dolls reminded me of pictures of survivors who witnessed the blinding flash of atomic bombs dropped on Japan. Not filling in the eyes
of the Daruma doll is a reminder that life is precious. Burning it is a reminder that life is short. The entire process points directly to the human heart—so much— grace, love, mercy, compassion.
You yourself have recorded my wanderings. Put my tears in your bottle.
—Psalm 56:8
In the devastation of Hiroshima, there is a wonderful negation of atomic destruction in a passage from Hersey’s book:
The bomb had not only left the underground organs of plants intact; it had stimulated them. Everywhere were bluets and Spanish bayonets, goosefoot, morning glories and day lilies, the hairy- fruited bean, purslane and clotbur and sesame and panic grass and feverfew.
Especially in a circle at the center, sickle senna grew in extraordinary regeneration, not only standing among the charred remnants of the same plant but pushing up in new places, among bricks and through cracks in the asphalt.
A circle. At the center. HEIWA WO!
One face. One truth.
Mostly water and light—
Grace is eternal. Love is infinite.
A flower I present you!
The same boat
Crossing to the other side
Some glass bottom world
ENMEI JUKKU KANNON GYO
KAN ZE ON
NA MU BUTSU
YO BUTSU U IN
YO BUTSU U EN
BU PO SO EN
JO RAKU GA JO
CHO NEN KAN ZE ON
BO NEN KAN ZE ON
NEN NEN JU SHIN KI
NEN NEN FU RI SHIN
Namu Amida Butsu
To keep you with me
To Heaven I prayed
Already the blessed rain
Answers
*trad. L Hearn
The Song of Songs
Bride: Let his mouth shower kisses on me...
Groom: For your breasts are more to me than wine and are fragrant with the finest ointments.
Maids: Your name also has a fragrant smell as of scented oils lavishly poured; therefore we maidens all love you.
Bride: Carry me with you!
Maids: We will run after you,compelled by your fragrance.
Bride: The King has summoned me to his Palace!
Maids: We will rejoice with you, remembering that your breasts are more to him than wine.
All true hearts adore you.
Bride: I am beautiful, though black, you daughters of Jerusalem: black as the goatskin tents
of Kedar or Salmah. Do not scorn my blackness, daughters of Jerusalem! The sun himself has
long gazed on me. It was my unkind brothers who set me to mind their vineyards, and thus
to neglect my own... Beloved of my soul, tell me where you will dine this noon, where you will
settle your flock for their noonday rest. Must I stray after the flocks of your fellow shepherds?
Groom: Loveliest of women, do you not already know the place? Then gather your kids, follow
in the track of my flock and let them graze by my shepherds’ tents. When I am with you,
it is as though I were riding in Pharaoh’s own chariot. Your cheeks are like a dove’s
breast feathers and your neck like a shining gorget.
Squires: We will make golden gorgets for you, inlaid with ripples of silver.
Bride: My beloved is like a bunch of myrrh; he shall lie all night between my breasts.
He is also like the blossoms of the henna plant in the vineyards of Engedi.
Groom: How beautiful you are, my love, how beautiful! You have eyes like a dove.
Bride: And how lovely you are also, my beloved, and how courteous! Our couch is strewn
with blossoms, here in our tabernacle with its beams of cedar and ceilings of fir.
I am the wild anemone, I am the lily of the valley.
Groom: As a lily among thorns, so is my love in the company of maidens.
Bride: As a quince among all the trees of the wood, so is my beloved in the company of hosts.
I sat down in his shade with great delight and his fruit tasted sweet. He brought me to his
banquet hall and his banner over me was love. Revive me with grapes, refresh my mouth
with quinces; I faint for love. His left hand supports my head, his right hand caresses me.
neither to rouse nor to disturb my beloved; let her wake when she pleases!
Bride: The voice of my beloved! He comes darting down from the mountains, leaping over
the hills like a young hart. Now he stands outside this house, looking in at our window,
staring through the shutters. Listen, now he speaks!
Groom: Rise up in haste, my love, my dove, my fair one, and come away! For the winter with its
rains has past and gone! Flowers bud from the earth, and the time has come to pluck
harp-strings for the coo of doves is heard throughout the land. Young figs sprout from
the fig-branches and flowering vines have a sweet scent. Rise up, my love, my beautiful one,
and come away!
Bride: Sweet dove, already you are in the cleft of my rock, enclosed in my cavern. Look up,
let me see your handsome face. Speak to me, let me hear your sweet voice.
Groom: Let us wait upon the little foxes that plunder the vineyards; for our vineyards are
full of grapes.
Bride: My beloved is mine as I am his. He browses among my lilies. Until the day dawns and
the shadows fade, turn your face to mine, my beloved! Be like a wild goat or a hart grazing
on the hills of Boter. One night as I lay asleep, though with my heart yet awake, I reached
for my beloved, but in my dreams he was not beside me. I said, ‘I must rise and go around
the city, searching its streets and houses.’ In my dream I arose and searched the city in vain.
The watchmen found me and helpless I asked, ‘Have you seen my beloved?’ Yet I had hardly
passed them by before I found my beloved. I seized hold of him crying, ‘I will not let you go
until I have taken you to my mother’s house and brought you into my rooms.
Groom: Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you in the name of the fallow deer and the gazelles,
neither to rouse nor to disturb my love! Let her wake when she pleases!
with myrrh and frankincense and all the powders of the perfumer? Behold the palanquin
of Solomon! Sixty guards stand about it, the bravest in all Israel, each with his sword hung
at his thigh, against menaces in the night. Solomon made himself a palanquin of cedar
from Lebanon with sides of silver, a floor of gold, and steps lined in purple. The cushions were
furnished for the daughters of Jerusalem, whom he loved.
Maids: Let us go out, daughters of Zion, and gaze at this King Solomon. He is wearing the diadem
with which his mother crowned him on the day of his betrothal, the day when his heart rejoiced.
Groom: How beautiful you are, my love, how beautiful! Your eyes are like a dove’s, your hair ripples
like a flock of goats bounding down from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are white as a flock of
shorn sheep come up from their washing, none of them barren, all mothers of twins. Your lips
are like scarlet ribbons, your voice is melodious. Your cheeks are the color of a ripe
pomegranate— save for what lies hidden by your tresses. Your neck is straight and strong like
the tower-keep that David built; in it hung a thousand shields, armor for valiant men.
Your breasts are like twin gazelles browsing among lilies. Let me now approach the mountain
of myrrh and the hill of frankincense, and there remain until the day breaks and shadows depart.
You are all beauty, my love. I find no fault in you. Come away with me from Lebanon, my bride!
Come away with me! You will be crowned on Mount Amana and on the crests of Hanir and
Hermon, where are lairs of lions and haunts of leopards. You have ravished this heart, my sister,
my bride. You have ravished it with one glance of your eyes, with one ringlet from your neck.
How lovely are your breasts, my sister, my bride! They are more to me than wine, and the
fragrance of your ointments surpasses all spices. Your lips, my love, are like honeycomb;
honey and milk flow from under your tongue and your garments breathe incense. My bride
and sister is like an enclosed garden, a court fountain. The garden’s bounty is pomegranates
and other orchard fruits, also the tree of Cyprus and spikenard. Spikenard and saffron,
calamus and cinnamon, with incense-trees, with myrrh, aloes and all principal spices. She is like
a fountain in the garden; a well of living water rushing down from Lebanon. Awake, North Wind;
approach, South Wind! Blow on my garden and press out the spices.
Bride: Let my beloved enter my garden and eat the fruits that are his own.
Groom: I have entered your garden, my sister, my bride, I have culled its myrrh and spices. I have eaten
its honeycomb and honey. I have drunk wine and milk. All were my own. Come eat with me,
my bridesmen, come drink with me and let us all be drunken together in comradeship!
at the door and I heard what he spoke.
Groom: Open the door to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled one. My head is heavy with
the dews of night, so too are my locks.
Bride: Already I have taken off my shift, must I put it on again? Already I have washed my feet, must I
walk in the dust? My beloved put his hand through the door-hole, my body quaked at the sound
of his fingers. I arose to open for my beloved. My hands sweated myrrh as also did my fingers,
and it was of the purest fragrance. I drew the bolt to let my beloved enter, but he had withdrawn
and was gone. My spirit turned, as it were to water. I looked for him, but could not find him.
I called for him, but he did not answer. The city watchmen surrounded me; soldiers of the garrison
snatched away my mantle. I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved tell him
that I faint for love of him!
Maids: Describe your beloved to us, most beautiful of women! How does he differ from any other beloved,
that you charge us with this message?
Bride: My beloved has a fair brow and ruddy cheeks. He is one in ten thousand. His head appears as though
modeled in fine gold. His hair is like palm fronds, though black as a crow’s plumage. His eyes are like
doves flying over streams washed with milk, and nesting beside copious torrents. His cheeks are like
beds of spices heaped by the perfumers. His lips are like lilies that distil myrrh. His hands and fingers
are as though cast in pure gold with beryl gems for the nails. His belly is like polished ivory inlaid with
sapphire. His appearance is that of a lofty cedar of Lebanon. His mouth is very tender and wholly
desirable. Such is my beloved, such is my protector, you daughters of Jerusalem.
Maids: But where is your beloved gone, best of women? Where has he strayed from you? Let us together
aid you in your search.
Bride: My beloved has retired to his garden, to his bed of spices. There he will eat the ripe fruit and also
gather lilies. I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. He takes his pleasure among my lilies.
Groom: You are beautiful, my love; as the narcissus and noble as the City of Jerusalem, but terrible as
an army with banners. Turn your eyes away from me, lest I lose my senses. Your hair ripples like
a flock of goats bounding down from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are white as a flock of shorn
sheep come up from their washings, none of them barren, all mothers of twins. Your cheeks are
golden red like a pomegranate’s rind, save for what is hidden by your tresses. In this Palace
I house sixty queens and eighty concubines and countless virgins. But my dove, my undefiled,
is single and alone, her mother’s favorite child.
Maids: Nonetheless the other women, queens and concubines, have blessed and praised her. They cry,
‘Who is this who advances like the light of dawn, lovely as the moon, clear as the sun, terrible as
an army with banners?’
Groom: I retired to my garden to view the fruits of its valley, to see whether the vines were flourishing,
whether the pomegranates were full. There I lost my senses, feeling like a chariot driven by
a princess.
Squires: Return, return, daughter of Shulam that we may gaze on you again!
Groom: What do you see in this daughter of Shulam, unless it be terrible as an army with banners?
How beautiful, princess, are your shod feet! The joints of your thighs are like the work of a
master goldsmith. Your navel is like a goblet which never lacks for liquor. Your belly is like a
heap of wheat surrounded by lilies. Your breasts are like young twin gazelles. Your neck is like
an ivory tower. Your eyes are like the fishpools of Hebron by the principal gate. Your nose is
like the tower of Lebanon which looks upon Damascus. Your head is like Mount Carmel and
your hair like pleats of royal purple. How beautifully and gloriously are you made. You are as
tall as a date palm, your breasts are like its clusters. I shall climb the palm tree and handle its
clusters. But your breasts to my touch were rather clusters of grapes, and your breath had the
scent of quinces.
also be food for your lips and teeth to savor. I am my beloved’s and he longs for me.
Groom: Come, beloved, let us wander out into the countryside and spend our nights in villages.
We will rise early and visit the vineyards to see how the vines are faring, whether the
pomegranate tree is in flower. The mandrakes are scented, and all manner of fruit,
fresh and dried, are stored at our gates, for you, my beloved.
Bride: I have said in my heart, ‘If only you were my brother, weaned from my mother’s breasts,
so that, should I meet you outside the house, I could kiss you and never be blamed!’
Yet now I shall take your hand, and bring you home with me and there you shall instruct me
in love. I will give you a drink of spiced wine, the juice of my pomegranates. His left hand is
under my head, his right hand caresses me.
Groom: Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you not to rouse nor to disturb my love.
Let her wake when it pleases her.
Maids: Who can this be advancing from the desert, rich in beauty, leaning on her beloved?
Groom: I aroused you where you lay under a quince tree. There it was that Eve your mother
lost her virginity.
Bride: Wear me like an amulet on your breast, or like a phylactery on your arm. Your love is strong as
death, but jealousy is cruel as the grave, and its embers glow with fire. Many waters cannot
quench love, neither can floods drown it. A man might well barter his house and all his
possessions for love, yet consider the cost trifling.
Maids: We have a little sister here whose breasts have not yet budded. What shall we do for her
one day when she is asked in marriage?
Squires: Liken her to a city wall, and we will build a silver palace for her upon it. Liken her to a door,
and we will strengthen her with planks of cedar.
Bride: I am like a city wall. My breasts are firm as towers. Therefore when my beloved is with me,
I restore peace, as it were. My vineyard needs a peaceful settlement, because of those
who care for it.
Maids: She has put the vineyard in the charge of her watchmen. This man of ours offers
a thousand pieces of silver for the fruit and all therein.
Groom: A thousand for the settlement and another two hundred for the garden’s watchmen!
My love, you live in these orchards; my companions are listening. Let me hear your answer.
Bride: Only come away with me, my Beloved; come away and become like a wild goat or a hart
on my mounds of spices!
Udumbara
Turning the world
Into a red poppy
Therefore he shall lift up his head... Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal
I opened my mouth, and drew in my breath: O quicken me after thy loving- kindness.
Your Pure Name Shall Rise —Rengetsu
The bell
The pine
A teahouse
Undivided
Grace mends. Love heals.
Bury me up in the mountain, oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
bury me up in the mountain under the shade of a beautiful flower.
Khanqah: A Cento in Progress
Snodgrass is walking through the universe
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
Covering the earth and filling the spread of the heaven
With their nightingales and psalms,
Dear as remembered kisses after death,
The limits of the dead and living world.
The garden is a river flowing south,
Soft as spring wind that’s come from birchen bowers,
Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.
I cannot say what loves have come and gone
Like its own tear
For all the history of grief,
And with a stronger faith embrace
Each morn and even they are taught to pray.
I’m taking it in, deep where I hope it will bloom,
Yet a part of me, as I am a part of you,
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things
And time for all the works and days of hands.
Be this my text, my sermon to mine own
That bears the Human Soul
Man did not make and cannot mar.
Who shall have peace
Shall have light
And who shall declare his generation? —Isaiah 53:8
Mauna Consagrada Ryokan Atelier
Lookout Mountain, Tennessee MMXXVI
