AUTUMN LIVES

As leaves fall from a tree
and the tree lives still
we drop from the living
while life goes on and on
as old leaves fall
before new lives appear.

But as nothing lasts
forever and ever
the old tree disappears
from the landscape
replaced by new trees
with their leaves.

And the old landscape falls
rises and falls into new
geomorphologies
with rejuvenating vistas
new shapes and forms
and new existences

that appear and flourish
rising and falling
and live not remembering
for a time like young leaves
on a yet vibrant ancient tree
somewhere in a new lifescape.

I AM THE JOURNAL

When at a Buddhist shrine in Nara, Japan, recently (Oct. 2008), I purchased a blank-paged book and had the monk shown in the photo write something in Japanese calligraphy. Then I wrote this haiku:

In my blank journal

monk writes fluid calligraphy

--I snap quick photo

Perhaps the blank journal is metaphorical of our lives. Surely the Preface is already written, but to what extent is the remainder of our lives a tabula rasa ready to be written upon? The question, then, is to what degree does the Preface prefigure the remaining plot and character development?

Sometimes I feel my life-plot was written ages ago and I am passively/actively observing its narrativization--written in exotic calligraphy in my Journal--of a life in which I strive to be a Conscious Co-Worker of the Divine Plan.

The story denouement is nearly always anticlimatic, for the main action occurs in the middle of the Journal, in the present. That's where I am now: in the always-present, not entirely cognizant of the meaning of the calligraphy. But, that's acceptable, because I am the Journal.

THE TRAIL EACH DAY

If I can remember to be
a Warrior in life;
If I can cultivate daily the attitude of
bravery
to really live life and face
death,
and know that Life/Death travel as one;
then when my proper time comes
--as it comes each day to those who watch--
I'll be ready to trod the next segment
of the Journey
down
the living/dying
Trail
of the Warrior.

SHUNPIKING ON THE BACKROADS OF LIFE

Shunpiking through life
avoiding the main roads
traveling the backroads

Straight roads left me stranded
and sent me mostly nowhere
to a country I didn’t recognize

Narrow are the backroads
paths less taken
that twist and turn

I’ll take my shunpiking chances
on a more dangerous excursion
but going to a real place

Seeing the terrain up close
in a landscape of magic
on the backroads of life.