A Poet’s Journey
from Tokyo to Kyoto via the old narrow road, with Jacqueline Buswell
Shiogama and Matsushima by the ocean in east Japan:
I had looked at the map of our projected travels, looked for Fukishima and saw that we would travel in the area of the 2011 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear plant disaster. I had seen an exhibition at Sydney’s Japan Foundation about the tsunami’s aftermath. Even so, it came as a surprise on day one of our travels to find myself at tsunami markers… the water came this far inland (we hadn’t even smelled the sea), the water came this high… In these cemeteries, said the guide, each new black gravestone represents a family, not an individual. The area has been reconstructed in part, but there’s still a hole in these towns, evidenced in empty blocks, new buildings.
memories held in the incense
temple bells to soothe the loss
still, the ache of absence
Matsushima Bay
full of island characters
some bald, most covered in trees
ocean currents
paths on the great whale acre
sticks, frames and buoys for fishing
shags dry their wings there
a solitary boatman does his rounds
Early morning walk, I cross the red bridge to Fukuura-jima island.
silent forest and then
birds fly and sing
cease my footsteps
a single violin
in the illuminated gardens
changes everything
sculptured pines
red maple yellow leaf
all trembling in the pond
Japan closed its doors to the world for 250 years -
Christian crosses
slanted and connected
disguised in temple paintings
in Tokyo we saw a field of peonies
mowed down for winter
but here they are
carved in the lintel lattice
at Zuiganji temple
An older Japanese woman offered to guide us round Zuigan-ji temple, telling us the symbolism of images and materials in the paintings — she had associations for everything, my note-taking couldn’t keep up, there was copper, lapis lazuli, ruby, coral, oyster shell.
peacocks and golden pheasants, for bravery
dragons and elephants, guardians of Buddhism
a candle-shaped doorway
white camellia for gracefulness, peony for prosperity, bamboo for honesty
the hawk, symbol of power, chasing the hare
chrysanthemums in the healing room
pine trees for a long life
evergreen and strong
a dragon and a water tiger
forever fighting each other
gales of wind against a tsunami
and Kariobinga, woman bird, who sings of paradise
Hiraizumi — flat valley of hot mineral springs
we turn as one
to watch the hawk
Chusonji temple –
Basho said
“the summer rains had left / as yet untouched / the hall of gold”
The golden altars are so precious, so holy, we cannot photograph. We make up for this and take photos of ourselves in the gardens, with Basho in bronze.
At the Benkei Inn in Hiraizumi I see
pieces of charcoal
in the ikebana
petals on dark mountains
the passing bullet train
could grab me
from the platform
I felt this same hole at the bottom of my stomach at the dark pond amid the illuminations at Entsuin temple in Matsushima:
at the autumn evening festival
the pond so still and deep
I step back
the tree fell
and broke its spine
at the gully
Don meets an old woman bent with age, he wants to practise his Japanese and greets her with a cheery “Ohayo gozaimasu”.
the old woman unfolds
at his greeting
her smile remains
At the house of the local headman where Basho and Sora stayed, we sit around an open fire with a heavy metal kettle, and drink tea. Wooden Basho and Sora stand outside, more photos… The charming caretaker speaks not of poetry, but of maintenance issues.
how to thatch a roof
40 truckloads of straw
one 76 year old master
We climb the mountain Haguro-san, its 4,500 steps under cedar trees and mixed deciduous forest. We reach the temple late afternoon and then are taken by bus to a local onsen and somewhere else to a sumptuous dinner. This trip is in the dark, and I have to say I don’t know where we went. The baths were the busiest and best we had yet visited, and they had an outdoor bath as well which we enjoyed briefly. Briefly, because we had to hurry on to the next bus ride to the evening banquet. We return to simple lodgings at the temple on Mt Haguro and sleep at the saikan, in rooms divided or joined by sliding partitions. It is cold. In the morning we attend a Shinto ceremony and are blessed by a shaking of bells on our backs. We are given a sip of sake, I partake, yes, at dawn!
three legged crow
on a stone globe
crow clan shows the way
at this temple they practise
ascetic endurance
why are there weeds out the back?
Buddhism, Shintoism
centuries of power struggles
so complicated -
I believe in the onsen
the pure land of the west
gives healing waters
We travel through mountains, some with snow, by bus and train heading southwest, in Yamagata prefecture — to Kanazawa. I glimpse the Sea of Japan through the train window — China’s over there.
travellers zipping bags
after a good night’s sleep
at the top of the world
they trundle with their bags on wheels
each new surface
brings a change of key
it’s not all palaces and pagodas
electric toilets
shoe horns in hotel rooms
on the bullet train
when you board and alight
seconds count
new social division at the railway:
those with big bags
to the back of the wagon
those with small bags move forward
Kurikara Pass walk -
an apple orchard
heavy with fruit
we stand and salivate
beaten down
by long-past warriors and pilgrims
the path has sunken
well below the forest floor
how much heavier on the earth
today’s asphalt and concrete
the joy of arriving in Kyoto
tempered by
election news from USA
the day is nine-eleven
the shops are endless
the shopper is persistent
with smiles the gifts are wrapped
Passing through Tokyo to catch our flight home I remember our first hotel:
the old red antenna
at night
a tower of orange jewels
© Jacqueline Buswell 2016
Jacqueline Buswell is a Sydney based traveller, poet, interpreter and translator with a keen interest in Spanish/English communication (and now Japanese kanji). Her first collection of poems is published with Ginninderra Press.
Jacqueline was a traveller on Haiku Walking in Japan 2016. The next trip heads out in November 2017.
Except where indicated, photos by Jan Cornall.
Read other contributions to Summer Grass here.
www.writersjourney.com.au
