Gassan and Yudono-yama

On the eighth day of the Sixth Moon [July 24], we climbed Gassan, or "Moon Mountain." Wearing chain necklaces of mulberry paper to keep us free from impurity, and bleached cotton hoods, we were led by a so- called Strong Man, a mountain guide, as we climbed for nineteen miles through cloud and mist and over ice and snow until it seemed as if we too shared the very path of the sun and moon!

When we reached the summit, we were thoroughly chilled and could hardly breathe. The sun had already set and the moon had come out. Making ourselves a bed of bamboo grass with twigs of bamboo for a pillow, we lay down and waited for the dawn.

The sun finally rose, dispersing all the clouds, and we started down towards Yudono-yama.

As we neared the valley, we passed a hut that had once housed a forge. A Dewa Province swordsmith of the twelfth century chose this spot for its miraculous tempering waters. After cleansing both body and mind through abstinence, this craftsman made swords inscribed "Gassan" which came to be valued highly throughout the realm.

I thought of those swords tempered in China's Lung-chuan (Dragon Spring) and of Kanchiang and his wife Muyeh who forged fine blades together. I realized then that to excel in anything requires much more than ordinary effort.

As we sat down upon a rock to rest a while, I noticed a small cherry tree nearby, no more than three feet tall and only half in bloom. To think this lovely late cherry, buried deep in snow all winter, did not forget to blossom when spring finally came to these mountains! Growing there fragrantly like the Zen koan, "Plum blossoms in the scorching sun," it reminded me of Gyoson's lines:

Poor wild cherry tree!
You've none but me to love you,
And I've none, alas, but thee.

And now I lay down my writing brush, for what I saw on Yudono-yama I am forbidden by the rules for mountain pilgrims to reveal.

When we returned to our temple lodgings in South Vale, the Acalya asked for my poetic impressions of our pilgrimage to the Three Holy Mountains, and so I wrote the following for him on poem strips:

How cool the crescent moon,
Faint above the leafy black
Of Mount Haguro!

How many cloud shapes
Capped the peak before the moon
Rose on Moon Mountain?

Since I may not tell
Of Yudono's wonders, tears
On my coat sleeve fall.

How they touch my heart:
Coins by faithful pilgrims strewn
On Yudono's path!