The sun is sprinkling
Shafts of light
Through the rainclouds
The house is chrome black
In the backyard
Fallen leaves float
On the swimming pool
My bags are cold
And filled with dread
One last swim before bed
The light is dim
As I stretch my legs
On a narrow berth
Going home is impossible
In this place of unrest
And inquietude
Where only owners live
There is no room
For wanderers or guests
In the darkness I am climbing
Precipices of strangitude
Forbidden shadows
Startle with apparitions
Spirits, I do not know your ways
I cannot find the lights
Trees are huddled in the rain
The clicking of computers
Meets the dawn
Kobo Daishi, Buddhist teacher
This pilgrimage of glass
Is so lonely and sad
Take me to a rainforest
Where flowers grow on vines
And shrines soften the landscape
Where mists rise with the day
And wind chimes tingle
Like a maiden’s breath
A futon is made up by the fire
With spreads of gentle colour
Burning incense beckons
I am found in another lifetime
Older and dressed in silken robes
Welcoming the smells
Of cedar and sandalwood
Spirits, I do not know
The ways of this place
Take me away in your arms
May the shrines be blessed
And the trees merge
With the misty mountains
Where scented flowers perfume
Forlorn borders of the psyche
Where sleep, nourishment of bliss
Settles in for hours and days
Of silent rest
Kobo Daishi, Buddhist master
No one is here
The house is chrome black
I lie alone contemplating
These things
copyright 2010 A. Mandlsohn