Cloud Pavilion
by John Brandi
Cloud Pavilion
A Kyoto Suite
Silence —
the heart of the mountain
after the clouds leave
Bowing, lifting
to the temple gong
a young bamboo
Sudden downpour
a sandal floats
from the graveyard
Crying tonight
as it did for Saigyo
a deer under Mt. Ogura
Bullet train
speeding through
these flowers of spring
April mist
moon before mountain
mountain before moon
Sakura viewing
a sea of beads cocked
to cell phones
On the Philosopher’s
Walk, answering
my own talk
Brushing aside
wild azalea . . .
rain–filled deer prints
The guide’s speech
inaudible
— croaking frogs
Pink magnolia:
in so many different languages
a pink magnolia
Mating cranes
in lacquered reeds —
bedroom of the princess
Hall of Council
worn tatami where
the master sat
Tour over —
the moss garden
begins to breathe again
Wrapped in fog
wandering mountains
sleep
Cloud Pavilion
withered grass
my hillside cushion
No wine
I let the moon
fill my glass
Fallen leaves
the abbot sweeps
around them
Study peace
watch the morning
glory fade
The Immortals too
grown old
on our wars.
Note: These poems were penned in Kyoto, Nara, and Eihei-ji, Japan.
I bring them into the world in memory of Japan’s great woman poet,
Chiyo-ni, who fully embraced Peace through the Way of Haiku.