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.