Kyoto 1989: Smiles are An Offering of Vibrational Prayers, From Those Whose Hearts Are Still, Singing

People line up in temples to light incense,

pray and compete for heavenly attention.

Incense-wisps curl, trail upward.
Smoke kisses temple birds,
who fan the scents to far away places.

Monastic birds flutter their heartbeats.

Fold the power of prayers into their wings.

Wing-smoke and people’s wishes rise.
Spanning the skies, far and wide,

caressing hopeful faces of those near and far.

Candles are lit, more incense sticks burned.

Low guttural tones echo off the cold stone floor.

Sound ripples, tides-through scattered pebble streams.

The temple birds add to the fullness in sight, sound, smells.

Wings flap feathers float, falling from Sky to land on Earth.

At the alter, smoke-filled throats chant until raw.

All of us offer our reserve of vibrational traditions.

Outside the temples tourists mingle with Monks and children.

Temple stores and street vendors provide families happiness.

Souvenirs and flowers reassure the lovely couple just married.

I watch the wedding being photographed.
The happy couple are arched and framed by worshippers.

Lighting incense and burning money for the dearly departed.

Food is left for Those who came before us, our Ancestors.
Whispered prayers request a happy bed for this wedding night.

I am eating rice, 

the sacred food gifted 

by Earth's waters.

Before swallowing I am urged 

to consider combining my eating,

with worship of our Ancestors :

'Those' who planted 

and tended the fields.

By honouring Nature, Earth,

and Those who cared, 

for all of this before us, 
my respect shows that I understand. 

I know the sacred act of planting, 

growing, harvesting and eating.

The Monk asks me 

to be aware 

of the vital mission,
to provide our world 

with food sustenance.

The Monk urges me to pray 

for Those of us who live,
live by the Earth’s good graces,

and are alive taking nourishment 

from Earth's surface while here.

The spirit of the rice grain 

is reduced to its purest elements.

Plant, grow, harvest, clean, 

steam-cook the rice.

Combine the powers of the Earth 

with muscle and breath.
Wind and Water energy, 

Sun and Moon energies 

flicker alive.

I watch the rice reduced into a paste, 

made smooth with a wooden mallet.

In traditional times, 

the Husband and Wife created together.
This synchronistic team 

required absolute marital trust.

Trust and intuition powered the cooperation.
The connection necessary 

for precise creation of the meal.

This intimate connection deeply forges 

immeasurable trustworthy lifelong bonds.

Ceremonies and festive prayer 

soften the martial bond 

into a state of conscious completion.

Those who have been born on Earth,
Those who have moved full time 

onto non-Earthly afterlife existence,
and Those in prelife not yet arrived onto Earth -
everyone of us is merging, coexisting, cohabiting

moving through the layering veils of remembrance.

They watch us,
Those who have come before us,
Those who have yet to come,
They all watch us
and with us they share the meal.

Together, we eat the rice cakes.
Every bite is a blessing for the Farmers,
and every swallow is an Ancestor blessing
offered to those in Spirit who care to give care.

Every bite and swallow is nourishing gratitude.

Songs are sung to re-mind every Soul,
of how many people it takes to grow one meal.
Chants are hummed to re-mind every soul,
of how many elements of Earth's heart and hearth 

it takes to feed one person, one family, one community.

Life offers opportunity to offer smiles,

vibrational acts and toned harmonic whispers.
Kindness is an offering, smiles a reflection

of attuning to the vibrational prayers,
from Those whose hearts are still, singing.

~~Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Carl Gustav Jung said;
“When an inner situation is not made conscious,
it appears outside as fate.”

Photographs by Karin Lisa Atkinson