by Richard Krepski

“There is a precise term for the venerable quality in a landscape
that mosses and lichens help instill, the word shibusa, invented
by the Japanese to save dithering with descriptive language.”
~George Schenk, Moss Gardening 

When any element of decor or function is introduced into the garden,
There is inexorable assimilation.
Ivy tendrils wrap around stanchions;
Soil silts the crevices and seedlings sprout.
Mosses colonize moist surfaces; hinges rust and vocalize.
Frost lifts and shifts foundations.
Even plastic will cloud and craze, anchoring tenacious lichens.
And so the artificial takes on the natural.

I too, the gardener, manifest this shibusa—
The grass-stained knees of my jeans,
The creaking, arthritic gait, gnarled knuckles,
Embedded grit beneath the nails,
Patina of age, cracks and wrinkles, wrought by the ultraviolet.
I sit and ponder corroding memories,
As mosses spread and vines advance,
The gardener becomes the garden.

Assemblies of flesh and soul that enter the garden of spirit
Likewise experience a transformation.
Pride of achievement becomes joy in others achieving.
The grasping hand relaxes into the paten of offering.
Kindness absorbed reradiates.
Beauty is perceived in every common thing.
The particular expands into the universal,
And psyche assumes the aspect of angels.