Sharon Lopez Mooney, poet, is a retired Interfaith Minister who worked in the death and dying field, now lives in Mexico on the east edge of the Sea of Cortez, and visits her large family in northern California. Mooney received a 1978 California Arts Council Grant for a rural poetry series. She co-published a regional arts journal; co-owned an alternative literature service; and produced poetry readings and performances.
Mountain Dojo
I am becoming mountain
study at the foot of ancient Mount Sensei
mother earth’s courtesan, her favored,
he teaches in bird wings fluttering through sky
wisdom flows as rain gullies from his bald head
I am a uké to sacred mountain,
thrown to the foot of O Sensei, great teacher,
creation’s paramour
he speaks the air
he needs no voice
I am becoming mountain
as slowly as the rocks O Sensei summoned as he rose,
so long ago even ocean has forgotten when the land began to break apart,
some use ‘drift’ to measure his movements, but there is no counting in his dojo,
his odyssey to this place was out of time, so slow it baffled even the weather.
I am becoming mountain
as slowly as O Sensei rose,
I am learning to live out of time,
bending in a deep bow of willingness
I am becoming mountain
my bumbling apprentice ways endear me to my sensei, frustrate me
I struggle to tune my lazy ears to kokyu, rhythm of life, carrying
the melody of stillness. I listen to Mount Sensei
sing in the profound resonance of silence.
I am becoming mountain
no longer tied to bone, not knowing through mind
my voice has no timbre, my heartbeat slows
misogi has begun its purifying to make room
for zanshin, awareness, where I might be without thought,
a mountain