Gentle snow flakes fall.The earth trembles.Silent.The crane is dead.The weeping willow has not a song;To mourn the loss.
Night time dew, Soaks the grass, A heavy heart Dew drenched Feet. Good Bye Sai Tai Gung.
Thunder breaks.Lightening strikes. Branches fall. Leaves twist. My head fills with thoughts of fall, and the winter solitude.
I see from my peripheral the raptor has landed. A slight turn of my head, To spy the predator. He rips the flesh of his prey, hopping and stomping in spot; then stopping. He spies me and waits for me to move. Silent and still as the winter sky, am I. Returning to his feast he ignores my silent stare. A child laughing in the distance. I think it's mine. The raptor kills the unsuspecting prey. He grasps the dead thing in his beak. The robin is gone. The worm is dead.
It was in the corner hiding. I saw him. He stared upon me as though I were to be his next meal. I stared back. Matching his gaze. Cold, steally and determined not to waiver. "I am not your dinner", I whispered to him. The spider.
Even a bail pot will fill with a trickle of water. It all must start with a trickle. But a trickle must be watched with patience. Listen, feel, and hear with patience.
A single rain drop hits the ground, Salty tears run down my cheek, Winter moon reflects her light in my eye A child cries, A soul is lost, I mourn the raven song.
Still an achey soul. Pain ends where Nirvanna begins. Forget this not, lest you be lost in tourmoil and defeat.
Funeral procession marches, We stop. Silent. Birds sing.
Awareness and awakening came at the same moment. Cosmic and profound. he had not time to remember why he had needed it, alas it had to be.
Heavy fall clouds. Sharp wind. Contrast, the summer sky.
I had something to say about the moon, but I have forgotten. Blue.
Fog drifts in. Heavy foot steps. Lost.
It was all just a reaction. I move through it, in it and around it.
Autum leaves. Wet grass. Something so real. I touched the stars. Cold.
Sleepy sky.
Night sky.
Sun crests the earth. Moon still high. My thoughts; empty.
Sun rises. Moon sets. Gentle wind stirs. Cold.
The student posed to the Sensei a question, “What is a Dojo?” The Sensei thought for a while then answered, “Leave this place. Go north to the mountains. Return when and only after the cherry blossoms have turned to fruit. I will have an answer for you then and only then.” Being the loyal student he listened to his teacher. He left. He went north to the mountains and had many hardships. He trained in his Kata. Was engaged many times by bandits in combat and even though he was injured a few times he still came out whole. As a result his Kata was much improved. His defensive tactics were crisp and clean and he had no doubt about his abilities. Yes he was becoming Buddo. Soon the mountain water was running fast to the valley he knew it was time to return to the master’s house. He did so. Upon his arrival he was not greeted by anyone. The court yard lay barren and empty. He walked around for hours looking for his master but the great teacher was no where to be found. After a while he looked down and noticed he was standing in the middle of the masters’ rock garden. “I must stay fast in spot so as to not disturb the Zazen any more than I have.” So he stood stealthy and stoic in meditation. In his mind practicing his Kata, fighting like the leopard. Yet his body did not move. Hours passed then days. It seemed like seconds and out of the wind a calm voice whispered, “Oh learned student tell me have you discovered what he essence of the Dojo is?” Eyes still closed, he retorted, “Oh great master, I have suffered many hardships to return on time when the flowering cherry trees turned to fruit. I have been waiting and here for you for a matter of days, and the time has passed in seconds. I have found the essence of my Dojo, of my Heiho, it lives with in me. It lives and breaths around me. The dojo exists because I exist and to that extent because we all exist.” A silence fell. The master whispered, “Oh learned student you have been gone many moons. When you returned you came upon an empty courtyard and abandoned buildings, did you not? The reason for this my son is that I am longer of this plane. I belong to the heavens now and yet you still found your Dojo. Without your master you found your Dojo.”
I was chased down by the wondering Buddha. He was in my mind then set upon my being. I can not lose him.
Grass blows.
Wind still.
Moving in time?
I had a question posed to me by a student. She asked sipmly this, "Why?" I thought for a long time. Before I answered, I wanted to be truthful and not let my honor be in question. I answered thus "Because 200 years from this time, when future students of Budo look back upon where we are; right here, and now,when they read about my students, when they see that I tried to pass on the ancient Tao, that just maybe my name will be attached to the great masters that follow me. That those whom go after me may just be linked to my humble little name. In this way a piece of myself may live on in eternity." I walked away.
What have I created?
What have I made?
This idea;
The thought that escaped;
And became a thing.
Upon Contemplation;
The Orange
Round
Smooth
Ridged
Smell
Sphere
Peel
Eat
Gone
Orange
