And brings joy back to my followers.22
Ikkyu also left a number of prose fables and sermons that portray a more sober personality than does his often iconoclastic verse. One classic work, written in 1457 and called "Skeletons," has become a Zen classic. In the section given below he explores the Buddhist idea of the Void and nothingness:
Let me tell you something. Human birth is analogous to striking up a fire—the father is flint, the mother is stone and the child is the spark. Once the spark touches a lamp wick it continues to exist through the "secondary support" of the fuel until that is exhausted. Then it flickers out. The lovemaking of the parents is the equivalent of striking the spark. Since the parents too have "no beginning," in the end they, too, will flicker out. Everything grows out of empty space from which all forms derive. If one lets go the forms then he reaches what is called the "original ground." But since all sentient beings come from nothingness we can use even the term "original ground" only as a temporary tag.23
It seems unfortunate that Ikkyu's prose is not better known today.24 In fact the best-known accounts of Ikkyu are the apocryphal tales that attached to him during the Tokugawa era. A typical episode is the following, entitled "Ikkyu Does Magic," in which the picaresque Zen-man uses his natural resources to thwart the bluster of a haughty priest from one of the scholarly aristocratic sects—just the thing guaranteed to please the common man.
Once Ikkyu was taking the Yodo no Kawase ferry on his way to Sakai. There was a yamabushi [mountain ascetic of Esoteric Buddhism] on board who began to question him.
"Hey, Your Reverence, what sect are you?"
"I belong to the Zen sect," replied Ikkyu.
"I don't suppose your sect has miracles the way our sect does?"
"No, actually we have lots of miracles. But if it's miracles, why don't you show the sort of miracles that your people have?"
"Well," said the yamabushi, "By virtue of my magic powers I can pray up Fudo