Archive for the ‘Zen Garden’ Tag

Huntington Zen Garden   Leave a comment

Huntington Zen Garden (March 31, 2022) — Panorama by kenne

I have lost count of the number of times I have visited the Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens, collections-based research, and educational institution in San Marino, California. The Huntington is like a “riprap” — loose rocks used as a foundation that a person can assemble before them.


Lay down these words
Before your mind like rocks,
                       placed solid, by hands
In choice of place, set
Before the body of the mind
                       in space and time:
Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall
                       riprap of things:
Cobble of milky way,
                     straying of planets,
These poems, people,
                       lost ponies with
Dragging saddles—
                      and rocky sure-foot trails.
Game of Go.
                       ants and pebbles
In the thin loam, each rock a word
                     a creek-washed stone
Granite: ingrained
                       with torment of fire and weight
Crystal and sediment linked hot
                       all change, in thoughts,
As well as things.

— Gary Snyder

A Winter Walk In A Zen Garden   6 comments

Getty & Huntington 2011A Winter Walk In A Zen Garden — Image by kenne

The world before my eyes shines bright.
The yellow leaves drift down in the still air.
It’s nice to see children soften each step,
Only my eyes run in all directions.

— kenne

Posted January 14, 2014 by kenneturner in Art, Life, Philosophy, Photography, Poetry

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Meltdown, Revisited   Leave a comment

Fountain ShotsMeltdown (First Posted October 30, 2008) — Image by kenne

Troglodytes can hide
Dismissing facts of the meltdown
Ignorance is dire.
— kenne

“Regarding Wave” In The Zen Garden   6 comments

The Zen Garden In The Huntington Japanese Garden, San Marino, California — Images by kenne

Regarding Wave

The voice of the Dharma

       the voice


A shimmering bell

       through all.

Every hill,    still.

Every tree alive. Every leaf.

All the slopes  flow.

       old woods, new seedlings,

       tall grasses plumes.

Dark hollows;  peaks of light.

  wind stirs    the cool side

Each leaf living.

       All the hills.

         The Voice

         is a wife


         him still.

                    Gary Snyder

Source: Gary Snyder Poems

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