Fleeting, enlightenment passes in a moment.
This Zen death poem (jisei) was written by the monk Gizan Zenrai in 1878, moments before his passing. In the Zen tradition, such poems distill a lifetime of contemplative practice into a final gesture—pointing to impermanence, emptiness, and the fleeting nature of awakening itself.
The Poem
Born into this world
I leave now for death.
I walked a thousand towns
Visited countless homes --
What does it mean now?
The moon, reflected in the water
A flower floats in the sky
Fleeting, enlightenment passes in a moment.
— Gizan Zenrai (1802–1878), Zen monk. Translated by Heron Dance.
The jisei — the Zen death poem — is among the most compressed forms in the contemplative tradition. Gizan Zenrai's poem, dated 1878, is among the most quietly devastating. It holds the paradox at the heart of Zen practice: the moon reflected in the water, the flower floating in the sky, enlightenment itself slipping through the moment it is seen. The poem asks nothing of the reader. It only points.
