Five Poems

Context

For me spiritual awareness isn't about filling my mind with ideas (beliefs, doctrines, commandments) but about emptying it to be receptive to what is.  While referencing the Judea-Christian tradition, these poems were influenced by my encounters with Zen, Shinto, and religious naturalism in Japan, where I have lived most of my adult life.

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Ascent

Scaling the summit,
the Milky Way spreads itself
like a blanket
over the cold, clear night.
The winding paths lead nowhere. 

Alone I climb
to high barren places
where trees do not grow,
to dizzying heights
no one has ever visited. 

I myself am this mountain. 

Clamoring up at dawn,
the sun is reborn.
I stand suspended between heaven and earth,
feet planted firmly on the rocky terrain,
stretching my arms to the clouds above. 

Peaks reach for an unseen sky.
The horizon is unbroken.
The skyline has no vanishing point.
The wind blows
and the stones are silent. 

Descent

Falling down the slope,
the path is strewn
with broken tablets. 

There is no law
for one who has been
to the top of the mountain. 

He has tasted the spring air,
sucked the sky into his lungs,
inhaled the wind itself. 

The descent is a stumbling. 

Crazed, unable to speak,
he pushes his way
through the staring crowds. 

For a moment the music stops.
The dancers pause uncertain. 

Then the flute begins
and the drum,
and he himself dances
round the calf made of gold.

Zettai mu

The void precedes
all things.
The void precedes
even God. 

Ex nihilo:
out of the void
all things
are created. 

Back to the void
all things
return to,
even God.

(Zettai mu, translated as “absolute nothingness,” is a concept developed by the Japanese philosopher, Nishida Kitaro.)

Immolation

I scratch my name
on the wall
of a fallen building. 

The glass is broken.
The roof has collapsed. 

Outside on the streets
we huddle for warmth,
pounding our feet on the pavement
as if dancing. 

One match sets the sky on fire.
The horizons are blazing. 

Scooping up ashes
and casting them back to earth
I paint the entire world
on the palm of my left hand.

Nothing

Smashing through barriers,
nothing remains.
The mind is empty,
clear and receptive. 

A pool reflects
the winter moon.
The cold penetrates
layers of clothes. 

Here is the moment
to look beyond the stars
that fill the night, 

deeper into a sea
that has no bottom,
a soul no longer there.