When I am gone.
And the house seems empty.
Do not thou.
O plum tree by the eaves.
The spring forget.

The above verse appears on the side of the stupa at Shasta built in memory of Rev. Master Jiyu-Kennett.

Gathered in the gloaming last evening the community at Shasta circumambulated the stupa three times, all the while singing exquisitely. A new chant I was not familiar with. Simply walking and listening surrounded by the gathering night, in the presence of this magnificent white marble stupa, was yet another treat I wish to mark here. The circling of the stupa three times, a Buddhist way of showing respect and honour, was part of a ceremony performed on the fifth day of each month. On the sixth day there is a ceremony in remembrance of Rev. Kennett's death; sixth November 1996.

This evening I found out the route of this poem, which is essentially a death poem. I felt sure that Helen Waddell was part of the picture and I was right. At the very end of her biography there is an excerpt from a letter written 9th April 1918. It reads thus:

H.W. to Dr. George Taylor
A scrap of Japanese verse from an old book of my father's that I turned up the other day.
When I am gone,
And the house desolate,
Yet do not thou, O plum tree by the eaves,
The spring forget.

(My camera has died. So until it is resurrected, or I get another one, photos will be absent. Sorry about that.)

Close to the ground
Squinting at a package
Ricola.
Does that say...
With Echinacea?
Honey Lemon with...
Is this what I'm looking for?

She bent down and asked
Are you a Buddhist Nun?
I pause, much distracted.
Then. Yes, yes I am!
We talked and then
Wrote down this web address
And left me still sitting down.

Before she left
She said, God Bless
Shook my hand and said
Hope that's OK.
Of course, I assured.
Then I bought the Ricola's.
Honey Lemon with Echinacea.

Hope that's OK.

For the woman and her friend. I hope you find what you are looking for. I did!