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What Not To Do As A Devout Buddhist
or,
Genjyo Sanzo's Theory of Hypocrisy
.........
the time and place
are lost to him when he dreams
(though he knows them well by heart when he is awake).
Memory perceives only
raining gray and moonshadow,
quiet peace of night,
the smell of incense
and sandalwood, not quite masking something else,
something bitter and poisonous in the back of his mind
that knows what is coming.
There is Blood on the floor.
When murder and violence came calling in the night,
someone stood up in front of him
and answered the door
(it was a wrong address, but Death is nothing if not adaptable).
One must remember that under no circumstances
should a holy temple be profaned
with such acts of mortal heroism; it shames the gods.
He would not think of that until later.
Instead he watched, frozen silent, when the hungry blade bit deep
until the screams built up behind his horrified eyes and overflowed
teacher (don't)
master (leave)
father (me)
(and though a dead man hears nothing, know this: there was never anything
to hear in the first place).
He has never cried for anything before
in the aftermath he vows he will never do so again.
When the dawn rises he goes out of the profaned temple and seeks revenge on the world,
furious and sick with the gift of life he has been given
(a sacrifice is the worst kind of gift to give; like fruitcake or knitted socks,
no one appreciates such things).
He will never forgive his unworthy self for surviving.
But forgiven or not, he survives,
and takes up the succession as was meant.
Years later he embarks upon a divine mission
(unenthusiastically, of course),
to reclaim someone's stolen toilet paper roll.
His late master's scripture lies in the West, they tell him.
It has been missing since that night of rain and blood.
So go fetch, boy!
And he can't find a good reason not to, so he takes the sunset road to the West
traveling with three others in a Jeep.
It would seem also that he has kept his boyhood promise,
as self-imposed ice and steel
render him foreign to grief,
to compassion,
to pain.
All that remains of innocence
are the screams left to build up behind dry eyes,
howling where no one hears.
(Zen Buddhism emphasizes muichimotsu, the theory of non-attachment,
and as a Sanzo priest he does so as well)
He is not grateful that his companions know better.