Like the comfortless plover of the beach
In the sand printing characters soon to be washed away.
Unable to leave a more enduring trace in this fleeting world.
~The Sarashina Diary, AD 1009-1059 (Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan)
The enduring qualities of art…speaking through time’s boundaries…resonating with the soul’s deep and private moments.
just being alive
and the poppy
“We humans have talented artist, but how can our paintings compare to your masterpiece of the four seasons? How could we ever paint such a compelling dawn or create a more radiant dust? We have great composers, but how can our music compare to your celestial harmony with the Sun and planets-or to the sound of the rising tide? We have great heroes and heroines who have endured wars, hardship, and dangerous voyages, but how can their bravery compare to your great forbearance and patience…” ~Thich Nhat Hanh, Love Letter to the Earth
submitted in response to Lost in Translation’s photo challenge.
“What is the cause of everything? …everything relies on everything else in order to manifest. A flower has to rely on non-flower elements in order to manifest. If you look deeply into the flower, you can recognize non-flower elements. Looking into the flower, you recognize the element sunshine; that is a non-flower element. Without sunshine, a flower cannot manifest. Looking at the flower, you recognize the element cloud; that is a non-flower element. Without clouds, the flower cannot manifest. Other elements are essential, such as minerals, soil, the farmer and so on; a multitude of non-flower elects has come together in order to help the flower manifest.”
~Thich Nhat Hanh, No Fear, No Death
A child weeping
Pick the full moon
From the sky. ~Issa (The Year of My Life, Trans: N Yuasa)
a lotus stem-
of this world ~Issa (The Year of My Life, Trans: N Yuasa)
Beneath a tree,
autumn wind shows itself
in a single leaf ~Junkaku*
Haiku before Haiku
…”There is a charming quality, is there not,” he said to me, “in this silence: for hearts that are wounded, as mine is, a novelist whom you will read in time to come asserts that there is no remedy but silence and shadow. And see you this, my boy, there comes in all our lives a time towards which you still have far to go, when the weary eyes can endure but one kind of light, the light which a fine evening like this prepares us in the stillness of darkness, when the ears can listen to no music save what the moonlight breathes through the flute of silence.”*
I will be taking a break for a bit as I have two eye surgeries scheduled for December and January. It is a bit of a wonder to the possibility of “seeing” what I have not been able to see. Hope all who visit find the days within the next two months to be filled with loving compassion and equanimity.
In Search of Lost Time