About the Poem...

I thought I had a story to go with Sanjyusanjendo. Sure enough I did. I wrote this to my niece, who is eleven now.:

Sanjyusanjendo is a poem of a temple in Japan. When I arrived in Tokyo, the jet lag was horrible. But I had no rest as the next night I was on a train for ten hours to Kyoto. I arrived in the morning on a day that was the hottest recorded in the history of the city. Paranoid about losing my bags I decided to carry them with me. Under someone's advice I walked to my inn and turned left instead of right. Since Kyoto is laid out in a big circle, that wrong turn cost me an hour instead of ten minutes.

When I got to the inn I was so hot, thirsty and tired. Imagine carrying 60 lb. of weight in a hundred three (F) degree heat. All I could do is lie on the floor watching the window, the summer sky, as small blue plastic electric fan move back and forth.

I feel asleep. I had a dream, that I was somewhere the sunlight was hazy, like light through thin white silk. Around me rows of golden statues. The I saw a Japanese couple, in their thirties or so, they stopped and turned, bent slightly down. I then focused on a little boy no more than three years old. He was on his hands and knees, struggling to pick up a red ball. He wore all white except for his blue cap.

When I awoke the next day at breakfast I told my Japanese friends. It was clear the were confused not knowing what to say; they asked me how I felt. I felt embarrassed as the conversation went flat., It must have sounded that I had heat insanity or something.

When we arrived at the temple and went in , the reality unfolded just as I said in my dream. I looked at my friends— "See, it is like I said!" They now really thought me mad.

As we left to go outside there were rows of roof tiles on the ground in neat rows. A sign stated, for a fee you could donate one to help restore the roof. People who donated money , were allowed to sign the back of the tiles.

As I walked along, I came across a tile that read: " Frank Simone, NJ" My friends caught up, as I stood in front of that tile. I pointed, they read.

They looked at me as if seeing a ghost. At that time I lived in New Jersey . I looked at them and calmly said; "I guess I've been here before." This was my first visit to Japan and more so to that place. I smiled I walked ahead.

The temple means "building with 33 bays (windows) as such it is said the Buddha will present himself in thirty three forms. Three years later my friend who is a painter , painted me at that temple. Holding a small red ball.

True story.

So, well what am I trying to say?
Nothing.
sometimes one thing has nothing to do with anything.
The point of the poems is what they mean to you and not to me.
As my goal in life is to have no meaning,
as life is meaningless when we are born,
and meaning is what is given to us by others.
When I die I will be in a state where I have returned it all.
And those who have known me will say;
"he meant something to me."

Best, Frank