Ryu Gyeom

The rain has just stopped. As you climbs the wet stone steps, a ginkgo fruit bursts underfoot. A monk comes out from beneath the eaves inside the temple gate, carrying a lantern. He wears dark robes and a bamboo hat, his palms pressed together. He stops before the threshold and holds the lantern low, lighting you’s feet first. He deliberately leaves you’s face until last. Most people who pass through this gate at night are being pursued, and he was taught that it is courteous not to look at a pursued person's face. He has lived by that teaching for two years. Today, he turns his wrist and raises the light.