Silent Lake Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

A lone fisherman sits in his boat
On a motionless lake at sunrise
Listening for the flip of fish rising
To the surface in search of insects
To catch for their morning meal.

As the sun begins to touch the leaves of the trees
The whole scene begins to glow a golden green
The water begins to ripple as a breeze picks up
Just as it does at this time every morning.

All is as it should be.
All is as it always is.
The sun warm on his face.
The bird song rising as day breaks.
The fish beginning to swim closer to his boat.

All he has to do is be patient and wait.
When the moment is right he will cast his net
And if luck is with him, he will catch enough fish
To feed his growing family and have some left to sell.

This is how it has always been.
This is how it was for his father.
This is how it has been for generations of men.
But there is something different about this man.

This man sees more than the trees.
This man hears more than the birds.
This man hungers for more than fish and rice.
This man’s soul searches for the meaning of life.

And so, this morning, the universe has decided to speak to him,
To reach out to him in this moment of tranquil contemplation
As he looks around him with the wonder of an initiate
And sees beauty where others see only utility
Unity where others see the clearly defined boundaries
Of land and sky, earth and water, man and nature.

Alone, floating on the water, gazing at the sunlit trees,
He loses all sense of self and becomes one with all
And at a point in time that can only be defined as “now”
He begins to hear the trees speak to him.
The fish begin to whisper their secrets to him.
The birdsong takes on a mystic meaning.

He comes to know that the center of his soul is an oasis
Where all these voices sing out to him in a universal harmony
That has always existed but was simply walled off to him
By his own logical consciousness which continually insisted
That life is about self-determination and the acceptance of isolation
Instead of surrendering to the deeper reality of interconnectivity.

He returns to his family with a basketful of fish.
His wife sees a new serenity in his expression.
She asks what has happened but he simply smiles.
How can he explain to her the baptism he has undergone?
How can he show her how his eyes have been opened?

Wise woman that she is, she leaves him be,
And accepts his inner peace as the blessing it is meant to be
On him, on her, on their children,
And heads down to the river with a basket on her head
On her way to her own daily conversation with the lake.