— for Robert Livingston Roshi (1933-2021)
There’s something about spun bamboo
— T-shirts and sheets, for example —
That’s like mint on the skin.
One you slip on first thing in the morning
The other you slip into in the end.
I used to think texture was the be-all and end-all
And I’m beginning to think so again.
Here and now. My teacher was a master
Of many things, not of himself, perhaps,
But he was never so much himself as in his garden
Even more than when he was teaching Zen.
Above all he was a master of bamboo.
Of its majestic height and its tensile strength
And how its roots burrow under borders
Without regard for property or propriety,
Not unlike he himself, who still speaks
Of the wonders of bamboo to you,
Though his ashes rest in this
Carved cubicle of an urn of minty grass.
There’s something about spun bamboo
— T-shirts and winding sheets, for example —
that’s like mint on the skin.
One you slip on first thing in the morning,
the other you slip into in the end.
I used to think texture was the be-all and end-all
and I’m beginning to think so again.
Here and now. My teacher was a master
of many things, not of himself perhaps,
but he was never so much himself as in his garden
even more than when he was teaching Zen.
Above all he was a master of bamboo —
of its majestic height and its tensile strength
and how its roots burrow under earth’s skin
without regard for property or propriety,
not unlike him, he himself, who still speaks
of the wonders of bamboo to me and now to you,
though his ashes rest in this
carved cubicle of an urn of strong minty grass.
My Zen teacher was Robert Livingston Roshi, who died in 2021 after a long
decline. In his prime, he was a force of nature, as they say, a force to be
reckoned with. A longtime member of the American Bamboo Society, he was a
master gardener. His neighbors compared him with Nosferatu, because of his
shaved head, his pointy ears, and the fact that he dressed all in black. I
took care of him in his last four years. He is with me still, on the altar
of the Stone Nest Dojo, in an urn of golden bamboo.