Frog Pond

The moon always present

yet sometimes not seen, orchestrates

waves of darkness and light.

Ripples left from thoughts dropping

in the pond where frogs

sing and silence with symphonic perfection

Old thoughts, new insight

It's been quite some time since I last shared my thoughts with the world. I came across some old haiku that conjured memories of what seems many lifetimes ago. Here's an example:

Stone, wood, water

captures delicious macha

dry green powder

I was sitting in an old teahouse in Sendai, Japan that was spared from the bombings of World War II. A quaint place that served homemade tea treats, prepared while you wait, along with ceremonial green tea. Paper walls hiding the tea crates, cushions to sit on around the eight inch tall wooden table that was clearly a hand-crafted antique. I was in a time warp with cold toes and achy legs, then it happened...

Our server appeared with stone tea bowls and bamboo whisk and began preparing our tea. Not quite boiling water steamed my glasses as the green powder was transformed into a green froth that stuck to the edges of the bowl and my mouth. Warmth and clarity rushed in through my nose and mouth as the medicinal bitterness of the green tea followed them into my stomach. Nothing else made sense in that moment except for the tea.

I find myself yearning to experience that again, except logic tells me that no two experiences can ever be exactly the same. Yet it is apparent that everybody has a "spiritual moment" at some point in their lives that is either completely forgotten or pointlessly pursued to no avail. And while we chase these lost moments we forget to pay attention and appreciate the offerings right in front of us. Maybe it's time for tea.