In Place 23

Spring advances, sun returns;

grey skies give way

to flocks of round clouds;

worms, birds and mice are busy

 

View toward East Gate, in late May.

A mother mouse tunneled into the old woman’s mattress to give birth. Mrs. Mouse and her brood died one spring day as the old woman lay down for a nap. The old woman mourned more than she would have expected.

Were it not for the suffering of sentient beings, no need for compassion would arise. 

-- John Daido Loori in The True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen's Three Hundred Koans xxxii)

In Place 22

A quiet fellow waits out

morning service, anxious

for his daily walk along

green country ways, reading sign





Shown here at age seventeen, this cairn terrier is mostly blind and deaf, but can find warm sunny spots and lives by scent. The old woman thinks of their walks as a kind of kinhin, or walking meditation.

On either side of the footpath rises a row of green pines.
Over the valley, the scent of a wild plum is wafted to me.
Each visit to this place yields me a fresh spiritual gain.

-- Ryokan (tr. Nobuyuki Yuasa, The Zen Poems of Ryokan 57)