Wednesday, April 1, 2026

SANTA SEMANA


Horologium Vitae: A Pilgrimage of Hours Into the Pure Land Of Great Peace

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Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God,
Have mercy on me.
Grace is eternal. Love is infinite.
A mercy of peace, a sacrifice of praise.

HEIWA WO!

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No time but in things. Give us this day our daily bread: Lotus, Lotus


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

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A better hope by which we draw nigh to God, an unchangeable priesthood, the promise of an endlesse life.

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.

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IV

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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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XI

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!

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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

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The sun is close to me, and the stars are upon me.

—Khalil Gibran

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Be still, and know that I am God—
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

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Iris of Life

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

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Teilhard de Chardin’s
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.....”

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spring night—
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

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Blessed is our God, always, now and Ever, and to the ages of ages

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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

  1. Jan.1:  All the earth shall see
               The face of God shall shine

               Blessings upon you—heirs 

               Mostly water and light 

               Heirs all, reap the harvest

  2. Jan.2:  The seed planted 

                Tomb empty

                The way prepared 

                 Path straightened 

                 The desert blooms

  1. Jan.3:  Behold the dove of the Spirit! 

                Mostly water and light

                Grace eternal, Love infinite 

                Salvation proclaimed
                All the earth shall see

  2. Jan.4:  Star of midnight
                Revealing the glory of the child

                Lift up your eyes!
                Face unshrouded
                Until the moon is no more

  1. 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!

  2. Jan.6:  The constancy of the sun 

                Rising

                The sound of trumpets 

                 Amid shouts of joy 

                 Love remains

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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

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The size of the orthodox tea-room, which is four mats and a half, or ten feet square, is determined by a passage in the Sutra of Vimalakirti.

                                    —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


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The rice is white.

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The word vast must reign over the peaceful silence of being...For it is a word that brings calm and unity; it opens up unlimited space. It also teaches us to breathe with the air that rests on the horizon...With it, we take infinity into our lungs, and through it, we breathe cosmically...

                                                      —The Poetics of Space beginnings everywhere this morning

Purify your hearts, ye double-minded. 

                                             —James 4:8


Old pond A shadow Of a frog


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Ma Mu


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

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Coming from the West
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 16
th 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.

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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.

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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.

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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].

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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

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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].

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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!

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Like a summer flower,
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.

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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

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In thy light shall we see light

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

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なむあみだぶつ

Namu Amida Butsu

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        To keep you with me 

        To Heaven I prayed 

      Already the blessed rain

                         Answers 

                                   *trad. L Hearn

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