Words and Images from Practice Period
/Our practice period this year was rich in expressions of what our shuso, Kanshin Ruth Ozeki called Dogen’s Path of Creative Enlightenment. Practice/realization/expression—remember! Many of us shared our expressions at the zendo in the Sunday afternoon and Wednesday evening classes, at our practice period closing circle, and in our everyday practice in our work and family lives. Warm bows of gratitude to Ruth, our inspiring shuso, and to everyone who participated so whole-heartedly.
Here are some offerings from participants:
Conversations with Dogen
by Rowan Percy, Salt Spring Island
Just now, all buddhas sit serenely at ease in receptive samadhi…
just now
illumined leaves
before they fall
from the branch Oct 9, 2014
practice within realization occurs at the moment of practice
walking up the road
leaves bright in dying
clouds and ripe apples
turn the great earth Oct 10, 2014
flowers of emptiness were made to bloom
the path of the moon
a silver swath
sweeping the sea Oct 14, 2014
…do not call winter the beginning of spring, nor summer the end of spring
in the course of my life
i thought one thing led
to another, now i find
past and future in the folds
of my skin Oct 15, 2014
after listening to Kate’s Zen poetry talk (Mtn. Rain), given Oct 10, 2014
in a cedar house
rain on the roof
a woodpecker raps out
a generous peace
cries of people
caught in storms
of war and wind
in stillness
hear their heartbeat Oct 16, 2014
take up emptiness and wash emptiness, take up emptiness and wash body and mind
wash the river
wash the sky
blue wetness
moistens the marrow
of the dragon’s bone Oct 20, 2014
…establishing an area of practice, all worlds of phenomena are established.
fir needles cover valleys
incense pierces clouds
red-legged frog leaps Oct 24, 2014
…to hear with the ear is an everyday matter, but to hear with the eye is not always so…. Just see large and small buddhas as valley sounds and mountain colours…
the mountain’s fall
shelters a whisper of cloud
tock of raven tongues
catch across the valley skies
a kingfisher’s cry reaches day and night Nov 1, 2014
the old buddha’s words seemed
simple enough now they confound me
which way to turn
the clock ticks
just this breath Nov 4, 2014
Dogen quotes from Treasury of the True Dharma Eye, Kaz Tanahashi, Shambhala.
Four haiku
by Karen Shklanka
driving too fast
wheels make a deep puddle sound
delight slows me down!
gutters fill with leaves
windshield wipers direct Bach
trucks tsunami past
foot hovers the brake
plaid jacket-wearing dog crosses
tail high, and waving
dog’s eyes and ears speak
pat me, feed me, love
she is always clear
Poems by Ruth Ritchey, Vancouver and Sunshine Coast
Three Haiku
The start of winter
from dry orange to night sky ice-
sandals packed away
Lone spruce - long railway
ties rust in deep flood waters
nest in boxcar
Bamboo bending low
strong gale winds sound the tall reeds -
lonely winter song
BEAT POEM
"...and vowed
always to be open to it - " (Gary Snyder, I Saw Myself)
the movement of clouds
crossing city lights
their bellies red green
as the urban sprawl dictates
the colour of the air
we breath
this "progress" - but why
does it make me choke?
as did the jar left unnoticed
far from sight and mind,
too full to notice
then so empty - now caring
to look deeper and realize
white mayonnaise turned yellow,
because there was more
to draw on -
newspapers, television, radio,
such drama to drown out bad smells.
Saltwater Cows
Saltwater cows breath the ocean
air into their boxy black
nostrils steaming the autumn chill.
Grazing slopes to the Skookumchuck,
too familiar these beasts roam
a forgotten rain forest
of twisted deep roots
that nourish this earth
under heavy hoof.
I see you as sacred
but I do not know you well
your large soft eyes
to stare into the emptiness
of this day.
Grey skies fall,
soaking your thick firm bodies
steaming tall grass outcrops.
You - branded to this earth,
rotating through sun shade blankets,
the cycle of dawn endlessly growing from darkness.
Impressing a soft existence,
finding grace on the backs
of saltwater cows.
Poems by Kate McCandless
Long accustomed to groping for the elephant…
Dogen Zenji
I’m a blind woman
grasping at the elephant’s tail
insisting an elephant is a being
that is thin, tough and ropy
until a big load of elephant shit
drops at my feet and I wake up—
This is the rear end of something big
I feel my way around
the tree-trunk legs
the wall-like side
the elephant reaches around
touches me with the so sensitive
tip of its trunk
I hold still and let it explore
my face with the delicacy
of fingers reading Braille
then I reach with both hands
open to touch back
Mist rises over Loon Lake
alight in morning sun
two figures walk slowly
on the dock—stop and bow
She saw this
and told me—
eyes shining