So Many Roads...

Ben-chan was in town last week. And as we do when I visit him in San Franscisco, we walked. We were once again pioneers of our route,
up to Oku-no-in,with it's gooseflesh satori waterfall,
down the Path of Philosophy to Honen-in and it's leaf forever flowing,
past Ginkakuji to my house & yard awash with yellow debris,
over Zokei mountain to a cheap curry lunch,
along Shirakawa stream to Yoshida yama, where old men stroll in deep thought thru the garden of gods,
over to Shinnyo-do where the pout of an actress clashes with trad kimono,
through the forested graves toward Kurodani's massive dark gate,
opening into Okazaki and a refuel at 58 Cafe,
then on Sanjo, Gion, Pontocho, dodging drunk holiday party conga lines,
& winding up at Hill of Tara for music and pints.

Two days later, following the tunnels of Fushimi Inari, past the runners winding up their annual 36 peak marathon. Down through the villages and remote subtemples of Tofukuji, then back into the woods again, twisting toward the open back gate of Kiyomizu, its wide trails crowded with late leaf viewers now looking downward. Along the cobbled multi-year slopes to Maruyama Park and an picture postcard English tea shop Beatrix Potter nightmare.

And, as always, superimposed upon this physical map is the map of conversation, detailed by the meanderings of our thoughts. Yet both of us, as we stand at the brink of new and unfamiliar decades of age, find that those landmarks we'd long steered by have ceased to hold true, as if the languages that they are written in have not yet been properly translated.




On the turntable: Grateful Dead, "So Many Roads"
On the nighttable: Oyama Shiro, "A Man with No Talents"