Field Notes #11

A Contemplative's Field Guide

Rain at the Kiyomizu Temple, Kawase Hasui

“Here is a stream of things entering into being, and time is a raging torrent; for no sooner does each thing enter our sight than it has been swept away, and another is passing in its place, and that too will be swept away.”

— Marcus Aurelius

FIELD NOTES #10

The rain roars with all the fury 
of a wounded lion, as if the sky itself was
tearing through the veil, every tear
and pent up roar exhausted against
	the unforgiving asphalt.

But the last drops of summer rain
fall slowly. Robbed of their fury,
they beat against the house like
little thumping drums, all quiet and content.
The seasons passing like stages of grief:

	An angry summer, 
	a bitter fall, stone faced winter,
	the false joy of spring.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

Molehills and mountains 
are a matter of perspective
the car in your rearview
is closer than it seems.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

Bathing in a knee-deep 
mountain spring, with waters
as sharp as a fresh-edged blade,
I find myself sinking 
beneath the rushing current,
for the first time aware
of the endless scope of ocean
and the unexpected impact
of a single drop of rain.

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