The Tale of Kokoro and The Temple of The Golden Tree
Dedicated to Dad
Kokoro, a monk in the twelfth year of a pilgrimage, had been following an old path along a river for several moons when she became the first human to discover Ancient Mountain—an igneous titan berthed from an underwater volcanic eruption many, many lifetimes ago.
Over the last few days of her pilgrimage, Kokoro noticed the twilight lingering longer in the sky at dawn, revealing itself earlier at dusk. The shade along the river grew heavy and tired, the brilliant summer green leaves burned into vibrant reds, booming oranges, and electric yellows. The autumn wind blew through Kokoro’s hair which would fall past her shoulders if she didn’t keep it tied back with a string. And the wind blew through the treetops surrounding the river, loosening their leaves thick with summertime, giving them a gentle push toward the forest floor, and the river’s back, where the current carried them quietly downstream. The days and nights had become cooler to the skin, so Kokoro had taken a thin robe from her trusty satchel to help keep herself warm as the season stepped forward.
Soon after beginning the day’s trek, the river turned a long, slow bend. Kokoro began to hear a great gushing sound. At first, the sound was quite faint, but as the morning progressed it got louder and louder. Kokoro knew the sound, the unquestionable crescendo of water’s might. The river started to flow stronger, faster. The sound overtook the river basin, thundering above the sounds of the forest and wind, until the forest thinned enough to reveal the entirety of a blue sky and the source of the gushing sound. At the river’s terminus, Kokoro saw a magnificent waterfall that emptied into a lake expanding as far as she could see as if giant arms offering an embrace.
Kokoro took a few steps out of the forest opening and stopped at the edge of a cliff. Surrounded on each side by unending ridges that enveloped the horizon in every direction, she beheld an awesome vista created by a valley that cradled the clouds, sky, and stars beyond. At the center of the valley hulked Ancient Mountain, a massive mountain unknown to humans for countless millennia. Until now.
🏔
Kokoro sat down on the cliff side to take a rest. Drops of sweat peppered her forehead. She removed the satchel which she wore on her back, setting it down in front of her. She untied a knot, opened the satchel, and removed a leather bag in which she kept water. She uncorked the bag and took a long drink. The bag kept water cool and the drink refreshed her muscles and body, tired from the day’s journey. Atop the cliff next to the waterfall, a tiny white flower grew from a crack in a rock. Kokoro shared some water with the flower, which had grown thirsty from a lapse in rain. Kokoro replaced the cork, tucked the water into the bag, and closed the satchel shut.
She took a deep breathe in, inhaling the valley. Then she casually exhaled, releasing exhaustion from her voyage along the river. Kokoro decided to entertain the stillness of the moment with a meditation. She sat in the lotus position, relaxed her eyes and hands, brought attention to her seat, the sounds around her, the colors in view, the warmth of the sun poking through clouds, the sweat at her brow, the tickle of another breeze, the thoughts popping in, the feelings drifting out. Kokoro tapped into the backdrop of the present moment, a gift that can envelop our senses and provide comfort to those whom choose to experience it.
After her sit, Kokoro stretched out her legs, arms, and torso, cracking some joints, and let her eyes regain clarity. As her vision returned from its meditative blur, Kokoro noticed a golden shimmer halfway up Ancient Mountain. Despite an overcast morning that had settled over the valley, the shimmer radiated through a patch of trees that grew up the mountain like a beard up a face. What a curious phenomenon, so far from civilization, Kokoro thought to herself. What could produce such a sight? Perhaps my eyes are not what they used to be…
Kokoro spotted a rocky path down the cliff, ending at the lake shore. A series of boulders emerged from the lake as if horns on a dragon tail and seemed to form a crude bridge across the lake to the foot of Ancient Mountain. Kokoro decided to take the path down, cross the bridge made of boulders, so she could ascend Ancient Mountain and uncover the source of the golden shimmer halfway up the mountain.
🧘
After descending the cliff path, Kokoro walked to the lakeshore. Kokoro removed her satchel and sandals, placing the wood and leather sandals in her satchel. She wrapped up her robe and added that to the satchel, too. Kokoro waded into the water and approached the first boulder. Each boulder presented a unique climbing challenge, requiring a thoughtful moment to plan and execute a careful route. Kokoro took her time and made her way across the lake one boulder at a time.
At last, Kokoro reached the other side of the lake. She stopped to rest again. Traversing the bridge was invigorating, but the effort made her thirsty and hungry. She drank the rest of her water and ate a rice ball stowed away in her satchel. She submersed her water bag into the lake, drawing fresh water for later, corked it, and returned it to her satchel. She strapped her dry sandals onto her feet. Curious as ever about the golden glimmer, she turned her attention up the mountain. From this vantage point, the light was brighter than ever, illuminating the Ancient Mountain’s forest canopy as if someone was preparing for the autumn festivals (which were surely underway back in the civilized world). However, as close as she was, the source of this light was still hidden beyond the trees growing up the mountain.
Kokoro shouldered her satchel and set course for the light. Over the next hour, as she ascended Ancient Mountain, the light became brighter and more brilliant, a wondrous golden shimmer igniting the world. Kokoro pulled herself onto a ledge where the light overwhelmed her vision. After a moment, her vision adjusted well enough that she could make out Ojinse, a bonsai tree with a stunning, golden bark that shined beneath red maple leaves and fifteen limes swollen for harvest. Here she was, as the sun dropped below the valley ridge, at the source of the mysterious light she had first seen earlier in the day after meditating at the top of the waterfall falling into the lake around Ancient Mountain.
Kokoro took turns staring at the rare bonsai and rubbing her eyes as her vision continued to adjust to intensity of Ojinse’s bark. A grove of cherry blossom trees surrounded the bonsai, oddly boasting their famous pink and white petals despite being on the opposite side of the seasons. From behind Ojinse’s trunk, she noticed a flutter. A twitch so quick, she thought it an illusion. But after encountering such a bonsai on this strange mountain, Kokoro began to wonder what was real and what was illusion.
The flutter took a few steps forward, leaving the cover of the bonsai tree. Its form became clear. Kokoro saw a small, green creature, only a hand tall. It took a few steps at a time, paused, and then a few more. Kokoro kneeled down and bowed to the creature, a praying mantis. Warmed by Kokoro’s gesture, the mantis scurried closer, its antennae twitching, and stopped before Kokoro.
“Hello, little friend. I am Kokoro. What is your name?” The mantis spun around in circles several times, chirping and chirping and chirping with glee. Kokoro slowly brought her hand toward the mantis and it gave her a quick little nuzzle and chirped some more.
Then, a most unusual being emerged from behind Ojinse. Kokoro rubbed her eyes hard again and blinked several times, for surely the sight before her was an illusion. The being, a forest spirit, looked unlike any creature she had known to exist in the world. But as the forest spirit walked closer, ambling on using a lime farmer’s staff, Kokoro realized that indeed this creature was very real and no illusion at all.
“Greetings, Kokoro!” the forest spirit said as he approached Kokoro. “I am not surprised to see that Paka-chan has already taken a liking to you,” the forest spirit chuckled and pointed his staff toward the mantis. Paka-chan scurried over to the forest spirit, who wore a white yari mask that seemed to float magically above a brilliant split gold body which mirrored the bark of the Golden Tree, as if the pair shared some ancestral lineage. The forest spirit’s golden arms and legs also shone with a split gold finish that floated separately from the torso just like the mask. Within the torso floated a balled core of fire burning like the sun, the fiery beating heart of the forest spirit.
“I am Shuto,” he said. “Paka-chan and I are protectors of Ojinse, the Golden Tree.” Shuto bowed, laying his lime farmer’s staff on the ground. “Welcome to Ancient Mountain, pilgrim.”
“Hello, Shuto,” Kokoro said, kneeling to the ground. Kokoro removed her satchel and laid it next to the staff. “Today, if you accept, my pilgrimage will come to an end. Here I will build Jinseki-ji, the Temple of the Golden Tree, to help protect this sacred bonsai.” Kokoro extended her arms, placed her hands on the ground, and bowed.
Paka-chan scampered between the staff and satchel, chirping and dancing in circles. Ojinse pulsed slowly, which increased the output of its shine. The bonsai beamed a ray of golden light up into the sky, which poked through clouds crowding Ancient Mountain on a fine, autumnal evening. “Of course,” Shuto replied. “Come with me, I will prepare some tea.”
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Copyright Richard Nesberg 2022.
The Tale of Kokoro and The Temple of the Golden Tree first appeared on nesberg.com: http://www.nesberg.com/kokoro/the-tale-of-kokoro-the-pilgrim-and-the-temple-of-the-golden-tree.
You can follow the epic journey of Kokoro on the official blog and HYY.PE. To explore the world of Kokoro more, follow Forest Spirit Shuto (#37) on Twitter.