Komorebi - Feb 9 2024

 

Komorebi

Feb 9 2024

The Japanese have a word

for the play of sunlight through leaves.

The tree stands;

substantial, rooted

unmoving.

But the image changes.

Each instant is unique

and all your own,

as the wind rustles

clouds pass

your body shifts.

And the murmur of light

invites contemplation;

that you stop

in your headlong rush

and lose yourself in it.

I think of a river

that also seems unchanging,

carved into the landscape

as if it's always been there.

But like the sun through leaves

the water is never the same;

dappled, shadowed

dancing with light.

You stand on the bank and watch

equally immersed;

the river itself, unstoppable,

water inexhaustible.

And after awhile

give in to temptation

and lose yourself as well,

diving in

and rippling outward;

submerged,

floating limply,

becoming one with it.

After all, you are mostly water yourself.

Fickle.

Moment to moment.

Light and dark.