Chang San-Feng on Mount Pahto

Comings and Goings Around Mt. Adams (Pahto)
Chang San-Feng on Mount Pahto
By Michael P. Garofalo

I met a sturdy young man, Frank, at a campground along the Klickitat River,
far below Mt. Adams.  We talked for a good while at sunset.
He told me that he had met a fine fellow, a Mr. Chang San-Feng,
in the forest below Old Pahto; who had published a book of
poems and short essays.  I later found a copy of that book
at Klindt's Bookstore in The Dalles.  Here is one poem
from the book by Mr. Chang San-Feng:

 

"Ancient Mt. Adams glows in the last light,
winds whistling in the thick flowing firs. 

Slithering snakes in the cracks of warm
lava beds.  Dry skies: empty vastness.

A dusty camp near shallow Trout Lake, all
cooling in the darkening shadows.

Stellar Jays check my table
for crumbs.  Nothing there to eat.

Both Presence and Absence wrapped
in Becoming.  Just sit─ a mirror in the dim dusk.

Long stretches of not thinking just
listening.  The mountains are speechless.

Turning on a flashlight reveals the tent's
thin armor.  The beam pierces the walls.

The Tao unfolds itself─ moon rising
midnight.  Sleeping away losses and fears.

Coyotes calling at first hour hunting
hungry.  The hard ground gets colder.

The Yakima's named It "Pahto or Klickitat" many
centuries past.  Thus It became something human,
Something Pointed Out, Something Named,
Something Talked About, slipping away from Presence.

Some man loudly snoring and a dog barks in a nearby tent
at second hour.  My watch does not really embrace Time.

At third hour I awaken, sit up, nurturing
my liver.  I smile, alone, in passing Darkness,
without Her but within Her,
the Valley Spirit Here and Now.

At fourth hour, Buddha-Mountains disintegrate, and slowly
drying racoon crap shrivels on Buddha-Poppy seeds.  

In the distance, somewhere, out there,
Rising, rising into the black clouds, just-so,
Making Clouds Itself, As Is, and in no-mind,
the Transforming Pahto.  

I remembered something Sifu Miao Zhang once told me:
"Master Yellow-Bitterroot Mountain asked Sifu,
'What is the meaning of Old Pahto emerging in the West?'
Sifu lifted his cane and placed it in his mouth, saying nothing.
Later, zany Zen liar that Sifu was, he wrote:
"No minds, no dharmas.  No-mind, much Dharma."

Daybreak crawls in earlier in June, Solstice
Rising, Growing more Sunbeams, Ch'i
Flowing over Everything awakening.

Dawn, we are the Light, everything appearing
pristine, startling, sudden brief jolt of Insight.

After the Awakening,
roll up the sleeping bag, put on a jacket, 
eat some cereal."

Meetings with Master Chang San-Feng 
By Michael P. Garofalo

Native American Legends about Mt. Adams (Mount Phato, Mount Klickitat)  

Sifu Miao Zhang Points the Way 
By Michael P. Garofalo