I woke in a fog this morning
Seven Bridges Road making tracks in my head.
I couldn't remember lyrics
only ...down the seven bridges road...
Why Seven Bridges Road?
Surely there could be no particular reason
no deeper meaning for this lovely
grace-filled soulful tune to come to me
out of the deep hours of night?
I am not so sure.
There are coincidences, surely, yet
too ready a reliance on coincidence
we may miss deeper reverberations
happening at the intersection of Spirit and life.
Writing about my wife's death has brought her last days and moments powerfully back to me.
Three years I avoided looking at her drawing books.
I couldn't. I thought, no, I can't.
She enjoyed drawing but in the hand of a child.
I opened her drawing books days ago.
I knew what her drawings showed.
She was not subtle. She understood bridges,
bridges and their place in the spiritual life,
representing the soul's crossing over to the other side.
Most of her drawings had bridges in them.
She was getting ready to walk
down seven bridges road.
Seven bridges road
Steve Young's ode to the mystery of life
roads we take willingly or unwillingly
roads we run from or run down
the blind and hesitant steps we take along the way.
Did my wife choose Seven Bridges Road to speak to me?
No. The Spirit, however, of that I am not so sure.
-
-
I ought to be clear about something
regarding this name I've taken in earnest - Korin.
It was given me to mean, "Ancient Forest."
Korin is not, as far as I know, a Japanese name,
rather, it is a dharma name
derived from two kanji characters
which could as well mean something other
than the meaning chosen by my teacher.
How she came to honor me with this name
she will not say. I have not asked.
I like the name, its pleasing sound.
It makes me happy to hear me addressed so.
Some have said it suits me.
Why it suits is a mystery and will remain so.
The ascribed meaning is lovely.
I've been in a few ancient forests.
How, though, am I like an ancient forest?
Do I deserve such a name?
I am most decidedly old now but ancient hardly applies!
Admittedly, I find it difficult to understand.
In their great stands the truly ancient forests
are magnificent, green, soft underfoot, populated by all manner
of flora, fauna, mythical and other mystical creatures.
I will always consider the Hoh Rainforest
as chief among the ancient forests of this continent.
The moss is thick, trees majestic,
streams clear, wildlife abundant.
It is beyond me to see myself in such august company
in their serene, green, pristine wildness.
I am of the human species
going about soft side out
needing all manner of aids to help me survive
even in a warm and well-stocked condo.
No. I do not see it, except for this:
There is something in me
that is green, clear, wild, beautiful;
something ancient born of generations
back through immemorial time.
So do we all have an ancient forest in us -
mysterious, misty, silent, still, deeply verdantly alive.
Might we all raise our leafy and needled branches
into the clear clean fragrant air
that steals through every living cell and fiber
of the very old and very sacred
ancient forest within us all! -
what is mind
but the natural way
not forcing
accepting things as they are
not trying to change what is
Dao the way
it is in zen
we do not speak of it
that is the way it is
I will practice myself
natural mind
flowing
yielding open not resisting
these are not my words
but Lao Tsu the master
I do not fully understand how
I vow to try to understand
it won't be easy
all my life not living the natural way
timid fearful slow ignorant
of how to become who I am
a stranger to myself
I see myself now
discovering this person
this Korin who has
breathed new life into me
take a deep breath
let it all go
let it go. -
Brightest star in our night sky
8.6 light years away
I can see it
Out there to the south and up a bit
8.6 years ago its light I see now
Started on its way to me
Have we been making this up
My zen friends and I
How long ago did they make up
Sirius, the Dog Star, binary star
Brighter than our star sun
25 times brighter
Sirius the Dog Star
Has been out there far longer than Zen
I don't mean to be cute or clever
I just want to recognize what is
And isn't that the whole purpose
Of Zen
We keep turning round and round
Sirius, the Dog Star, will be 'round tomorrow night too
And all day for that matter
New found love have I for dogs and stars. -
Zen emptiness
Empty meaning
Empty self
Empty love
Can empty words
Fill empty souls
Sun is setting
Spring eve is clear
Wine is good
Can these be empty
Filling an empty soul -
So long a life bumping up against my dispositions and failures
difficult to find balance between what I sense I ought do
and what I can do with skill and serenity.
What can I do and do well?
I am adept at sitting on my veranda watching birds
while trees are always asking for my sage advice
needing my watchful gaze to praise their beauty.
Much more but enough for now.
For and with Sangha there are tasks I can do:
-Welcome all who come
-Sit in zazen silence
-Chant with enthusiasm
-Listen with mind open and accepting
-Hold all in hands of loving kindness
-Offer thoughtful words, perhaps even wisdom
on rare occasions
-Offer my small home for convivial gathering
-Laugh with my sisters and brothers
-Cry at such losses we may share
-Support Sangha in every way I reasonably can
Having taken time for reflection, considering my age and experiences, my gifts held dearly, my vexacious faults held too nearly, I am compelled to write:
In Sangha:
-I'll limit my roles so as to Sit well most of the time
-I'll not sit on any councils
-I am unlikely to take the lead on any project
-I will vigorously complain about anything and everything
but with a kind and oh so tender heart.
Ask more than I can gladly offer I will beg to say no. I value my serenity and freedom too much to give them easily away. Might I be challenged from time to time? Yes, but...
- do not ask me to step into places
where I've failed and fallen before
-for my part, I will be wary of stepping into those
places again
-for Sangha I will do what I can then step back
-others I'll admire for what they do gladly and well
-may others admire me for what I do gladly and well.
I have made vows with Sangha:
-Heartily to ferry all beings to the other shore
-Mercilessly to shatter all delusions
-Unremittingly to storm the dharma gates
and, when I've done all that,
-Fearlessly to walk arm in arm in the very present moment with the Buddha and the Christ.
My writing is:
-a step towards letting it all go
-a step towards following my Bodhisattva vows
-a step towards the Beautitudes mount
-a step towards loosing the hold on me of my ancient and twisted karma.
This is my pledge of responsibility to Sangha, a statement I will come back to often, change as I continue to change in response to my abilities my desires and the needs of Sangha. I suppose I am unusual that I feel the need to put it in writing. It is my way. To do so helps me to be and remain faithful.
Having done as much as I can for myself and Sangha:
-At the beginning of each day I'll wake rested and at peace.
-At the end of each day I'll know I've done the best I could and sleep in peace.
Finally, I have had my losses, the dearest one of all. I hold Carols memory and that is enough for me. She was Sangha with me for many years. I look to her still as my guiding star in finding my way to that other shore. -
Why have you gotten up and left
leaving your chair by my side?
Will you not come back to sit with me?
Of course I know
you cannot return.
Your last word
Goodbye.
Then you were gone.
Your chair is empty still.
Often, in the night or on waking,
I sense someone is with me.
There is no one.
All told me to wait
but I did not wait long
I did not know how to do it well
to grieve and to let you go. -
A young woman
betrothed not long
played the Irish harp
simple and pure
went to sleep on a spring eve
never to wake again
I bequeathe to Mary this poem
to take with her
on her sacred journey.
______________________________
I had found Mary Somerville's Scottish harp melodies on Spotify. I found these very simple melodies pleasant listening. I saw that she had 68 visitors. After a time I wondered about her and her harp. Some searching brought me the news that she had died, along with her husband, while honeymooning. She was 39 years old. As they slept, deadly carbon monoxide filled their room. Neither of them woke again. I think about this every time the melodies play. -
I am a spiritual being
in me all around me spirit
beings grasses birds all
not a thing that is not
star cloud universe
all with me creating
our exquisite masterpiece
I can explain none of it
no book sutra commentary
although they try can explain
this body mind I am
led astray in theory abstraction
zen words stories patriarchs
none know this
can explain this
that I am. -
I welcome old age and enjoy being free
rope shoes a bamboo staff the last month of spring
paper curtains plum blossoms daybreak dreams
immortality and buddhahood are merely fantasies
freedom from worry and care is my practice.Stonehouse (Shih-wu)*
For a time I sit in retreat
trying to let it all go
such is my desire or my illusion
calm settles quiet around me
following wave on wave of change.
I will let my mind go where it wants
careful as I do not know my mind
not understand my own life
I am old now and alone
thinking I had grieved my loss
I waded deep into swirling life
at last to step back step away.
Those old hermits stepped away for good
I’ve not read of their regrets.
*The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse,” translation and commentary by Red Pine, excerpt and adaptation from poem 31, Copper Canyon Press. 2014
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