Three Poems
       

Yesterday we sat on the bank of the Kamo River, laughing
and drinking beer. Today, that very spot collapsed into
swollen floodwaters. In the temples, there is so much talk
about emptiness, and the ground of being. The void in the
riverbank is large enough to hold us all.

                                        *

Cranes follow the river north toward the mountains at
dusk, and though they cry out as they go, we cannot
hear them over the roar of the river flooded with this
afternoon's rain.

                                        *

It's possible to enter the Great Buddha of Kamakura, to feel
the sheets of bronze from the inside, gaze into the Buddha's
head, and linger in "the interior of the womb." The metal
sings when you strike it with your hand, and you can sense
the statue enclosing you. The world falls away, and like the
body of an aircraft, the metal skin holds off catastrophe.
When you exit at last, there's no telling where you might be.

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Copyright © 2019 Gary Young All rights reserved
from New Letters
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission