Along the Kumano Kodo

(I)

The silent mist, a sacred light
by the revered Kukai enshrined
will bless this road. Aligned
the triple moons, twilight becomes night.

How loud and far the mountain song
in stubborn stone since then recorded
will show the way? Eroded
by tireless rain, how vast, how strong?

The trail goes long and deep
through the cryptic forest. I breathe
the scent of giant cedars
 - and vestiges of cinder.

Along the faded river vein
shadows tremble yet remain,
and a thousand ancient tales
 - still linger.

(II)

To walk these roads: to be
among old stores, rivers,
whispering trees.

To see
how time is cryptic
like water, sometimes
birthing itself,
 - and sometimes still.

To think
that coming here
is always a return, a return,
 - and yet
   we walk these roads
    to be.