WELCOME to Summitlake.com’s Writing page. New writing since 2006 is generally posted in WordPress format here in Writing. As listed in the sidebar index, we feature original works by Alex Forbes and our Guest writers. This page was formerly called Writing Notes. It is also home to all our benchmark and legacy writing archives, written mostly since 1990.
Deep Cycles and Everyday Things
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A Buddhist vignette by Fred Leeds
Consider the cycle between the acorn and the oak tree, each the once and future source of the other, yet each preserving its own life in the ongoing instant. Here we see an acorn, and there we see an oak tree. While the two are secretly bound up in each other’s very existence, still there is no confusion.
In Buddhism birth and death are looked at in the same way. Of course in Buddhism there is a doctrine of rebirth, which may seem strange to us. Even if it is treated only as a beautiful story, however, the moral upshot is amazing: While we have shared lives countless times in the past, the currently incarnated being is always independent. Note the implication that we both are and are not our own, that we may hold this life, in common with a host of unseen others, as a sacred trust.
No First Cup
Vignette by Fred Leeds
He lifted the kettle and poured tea into the cup. He lifted the cup to his
lips, but set it down at once. He lifted the cup again and handed it to his
assistant, who was standing beside him. He took another cup down from the
cupboard, poured a fresh cupful and began to drink.
“Thank you, teacher,” said the assistant. “You could have given me the
second cup, though.”
“The first cup always goes to the second person,” said the teacher.
The assistant drank his cup of tea and set it down. He reached over and took
up the tea kettle. He waited for the teacher to finish his cupful. He took
the teacher’s cup and poured him a second cup.
“You learn well,” said the teacher, reaching over to bring back his cup.
“It’s just that I realized there is no first cup,” said the assistant.
Two Haiku in Search of a Title
by Fred Leeds
unexpected rain
the one with an umbrella
gets laughed at
Worn gloves droop sadly
above a pile of spring clothes:
suddenly March.
Amateur’s Armchair
by Fred Leeds, with thanks to William Spengemann, a teacher
Today’s Topic: a koan — A Reply From the East, or Zen Corner
Master Joshu was asked if a dog has the Buddha nature or not. Joshu’s answer: “Mu” (no). According to Buddhist doctrine, all things are already forms of Buddha nature. A dog in its given form is the same as Buddha nature, not an instance of it. As Buddha nature is not something things merely have, it is represented everywhere in things themselves. Dog, Buddha nature — the same. Every being is a reconstruction of the universe as a whole; each being “caps” all the rest by remaining itself. One moral implication of this: We should treat others, whatever their state, as whole and sacred, complete in themselves. Black stone, white dove – however given things seem to differ, they at once spell Buddha nature.
Earth and Sky in Three Movements – 3 Haiku by Fred Leeds
i. skies sheer and vast
one small cloud comes east
this earth your sole companion
ii. skies left alone
last bird just flew
your only eyes meet the sky
iii. sky taller than any god
you rise up to meet it
hands stretching beyond the earth
3 More Haiku by Alex Forbes
Helix Nebula,
thousand year telegrapher;
worlds, long forgotten.
Lightning flash
illuminates my skyline,
My God, an x-ray!
Weren’t you just here?
we canoed across the lake;
now it’s just water.
3 Haiku by Fred Leeds
Last ice still melting,
Tiny blossom just sprouted:
Winter’s tree or spring’s?
Sparrow chirping upon branch
Hawk silently descends
Sparrow lifts off: skys end.
Summer rain coming from nowhere
I throw up my hands
and throw off my shirt.
3 Haiku by Alex Forbes
Dreary late spring rain
waving clouds of leaves
dripping like morning news.
Polished the car
clouds pouring rain
more wax and wane?
Fishing, water, gossip
old friends
float my boat
Sloth Comes out of the Closet At Last
poem by Fred Leeds
I have a special drawer where I keep my arithmetic mistakes.
Pennies and division signs crouch there
in the dark,
their terrible irritability silenced.
In another drawer poetry waits to leap out,
ready to shock bookkeepers
with its goofy smile and baggy pants.
Store clerks crouch behind loaded bows and ribbons,
ready to strike when they see me approach.
It is always too late.
It is not that I dislike having things in order,
I just hate to see life’s wonder broken down
into fractions and decimals.
My imagination and I are plotting a revolution
against the whole rotten system,
if we can ever get organized
or learn to wait in line.
Nature’s Also Human Tune
Vignette by Fred Leeds
Morning, autumn by the lake. Cushions of leaves encircle the trees. The birds in the trees begin to sing. It is a sound with which the ears of the heart are already familiar. The song is a part of nature’s also human tune. While the notes are recognizable as nature’s ancient code, I must translate them for the doubtful modern mind.
The leaves beside the trees rustle as the wind ruffles the lake. I take up my pen and write what you have just read.
