Nancy Gaffield
Kanreki
Life’s been round and full, but now it’s time
for turning back. I sit alone on the porch
of Entsuji; a perfume of cedar and incense
curls up in my lap. The rain draws thick
lines, rendering rivers through moss and stone.
Like the ancient sitters, I practice
letting go over and over again.
This is the temple of the moon; the stones float
like silver ships in a sea of blackness, but I’ve come
in the time of the waning crescent when the moon grows
thin. For my return, I choose the oblique route.
As I rise to go the old priest says, Daughter:
Whatever we encounter is our life.
His eyes bless me till I float out of sight.
Page(s) 26
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