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Monday, March 14, 2011

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 trailing upward kissing
temple birds
who fan the scented smoke 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,
kissing faces of those who also hope, far and wide.

Candles are lit, more incense sticks burned.
Low guttural tones chant echoing off the cold stone floor -
tiding ripples through scattered small-pebbled streams.

The temples are full of sights, smells and sounds;
wing flaps and fallen feathers
float down from heaven to land on the earth.
At the alter, smoke-filled throats hum until raw -
an offering of reserved vibrational traditions.

Outside the temples tourists mingle with monks and children.
Everyone shops from temple stores and street vendors -
snack food, and balloons, amuse families buy 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,
unreal money being burned for the dead
food being left for the ancestors,
and whispered of prayers are made
for a happy bed of the first wedding night.

I am eating rice,
the sacred food of the East,
before swallowing my bite of Mochi,
I am urged to consider
combining my eating with worship of our ancestors,
who planted and tended the fields before us -
by worshiping nature and the earth
it shows I understand the sacred act of growing and harvesting.
The Monk asks me to be aware
of the vital mission,
to provide our world with food sustenance.
He urges me to pray for those of us who live,
live by the earth’s good graces, are alive living on its surface.

To make Mochi
the spirit of the rice grain
is reduced to its purest elements -
plant the rice, grow the rice, harvest the rice,
combine the powers of the earth and breath,
wind and water, Sun and Moon energy -
then clean the rice, steam cook the rice
and finally reduce the rice into a paste
by making it smooth
from a lengthy beating with a mallet.

In traditional times t
he pounding was done by the husband and wife,
this synchronistic team
required absolute marital trust,
trust and intuition
powered the cooperation necessary for precise creation.

After all festivals,
and all the praying has softened into completion -
those who have been born on earth,
those who have been moved to the afterlife,
those who have yet to arrive on earth -
through the veil of remembrance,
they all watch us eat the rice cakes.
Every bite is a blessing for the farmers,
and every swallow is a blessing
offered to heavenly rice care givers.
Every bite and swallow is gratitude for nourishment.

Songs are sung to remind every soul,
of how many people it takes to grow one meal -
Chants are hummed to remind every soul,
of how many elements of heaven and earth it takes to feed one person -
life is an offering of vibrational acts, smiles, and toned harmonic whispers,
Smiles are an offering of 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.”

"Pretty Happy"