XLIII.
When I visited my old house, it was not there.
Metal fences guard the site planed and
sandy from the sight of passers-by the plot levelled and of itself
unmarked save for the
wooden staff inscribed with chinese characters the epitaph 'gozonji
desuka', notched a
number of times as if already having accompanied several pilgrimages
it stood alone
although not the only one my house having been built on sacred ground
a cemetary
now and even then. Clinging to the fence I look about the ground for
a hint a leaving
for something I knew a pointer an omiyage memento mori of my former
presents there,
a shard, a cup, a board, a bowl, a rag, a towel, a knife, a cowl. And
found none. The earth
raked over and prepared in waiting for archeologists of the following
millenium for whom
in the meantime several other dwelling places or perhaps parking lots
might be erected as
obstacles to their quests. A weed manages to push its first green
leaves up from under the
dirt my first thought being that it were a seed sprung anew from
garbage strewn but more
closely peering reveals the rhizomous root stock or stem which shapes
its form according
to changing functions the new growth of pernicious wisteria.
Last night I dreamt my orbitting yellow capsule
completely spherical was its design had
spun out of trajectory ground control lost its orbit decaying it
falls toward earth to make a
phosphorescent tail and exact crash landing to explode on impact at
its point of origin a small
circular launch pad in a wide flat field. I adopt the fetal position
disposed in an ancient urn and
cover my eyes the impact killing me instantly thus needing no fear
for death's progress is
instantaneous if my consciousness were concerned. The yellow capsule
hurtles earthward at a
velocity to see the launch pad rising quickly to greet my return the
crew on the ground work
frantically to hypercorrect erratic movements and assure themselves
of my descent remaining on
target, while two friends watch from an apartment - no time to say
goodbye they regret to each
other the previous chances they missed and other onlookers ungraced
by knowledge their
ignorance blissful enjoy the aesthetic of my capsule's progress, some
see it as portent a sign a
shooting star upon which to hang a wish at which to point and wonder.
The earth speeds upward,
suddenly I wake with a start a sharp painful intake of breath
heuh.
Born again.
Tetsuwan taps me on the shoulder.
- Find anything?
- No, nothing. Except maybe that weed there, is a
new growth of the wisteria I once planted.
You? Did you find the grave of your ancestor?
- Mmm, yes.
- And?
- Swept off the leaves, raked the earth, poured a
little water over the stone...come on, let's pay
a visit to the monastery, rare chance you know, Rinzai, they aren't
so sociable. I have to pay my
Sensei's respects.
We walk between great stones carved in old names
the houses of long dead families, and of the
less dead, the vases filled with fresh flowers pools reflecting our
passing shadows.
- He plays the sax too.
- How do you know?
- He played for me Night and Day.
- But you've never met him.
- Who?
- The honch here we're going to meet, the Great Teacher Onizuka Roshi.
- No, I'm thinking further into the future from the past, I am the One for he who Prrepares for my coming.
- And the one begat the two and the two begat the
three and the three the ten thousand things...
hey, this sect is hooked on koan you know, you can't get past the
empty gate teaching, I'd watch
my step if I were you.
- So, I have a riddle for the Roshi.
- Yeah? Let's hear it.
- Well, what do cows say in Japanese?
- Ah, 'Mo'.
- Yes, and what do cows say in English then?
- Moo.
- That's right, but in English! They say 'nothing'. You spelt it wrong anyway, it's 'mu'.
- Oh hah hah. Tsk. Mu-mon-kan. You are too far
ahead of me, I give up.. Here we are,
the kutsubako.
- Beginners try to show everything anyway.
- That's right, and in the process they show their ignorance by making mistakes.
- I will say nothing then.
- When in Rome, eh? Ja, osakini douzou.
admonish the party responsible