3 Years in Sendai – 5: In the Footsteps of Basho at Matsushima

 

                                     

                                                   View of Matsushima from the train station.

3 Years in Sendai – 5: In the Footsteps of Basho at Matsushima

One of the most spectacular places I visited during my time in Sendai wasn’t far from the city at all. Just a short train ride carried me into the timeless beauty of Matsushima, a seaside town steeped in history, poetry, and spiritual resonance.

Even the great haiku master Matsuo Basho struggled to describe it. His famous verse says it all:

“Matsushima ya!
Ya Matsushima!
Matsushima ya!”

So stunned was he by the beauty of this place that all he could do was repeat its name like a mantra. And truly, Matsushima is worthy of that awe. The bay is dotted with more than 260 pine-clad islets, each rising gracefully from the sea like brushstrokes from a Zen painter’s hand.

                                       Islands littered with pine trees cropped up all over.

One of the most iconic landmarks is the Godaidō, a small temple dedicated to the legendary Samurai lord Date Masamune, perched on a tiny islet just off the shore. Said to be over 400 years old, it has weathered storms and centuries with quiet dignity.

                                                                       The Godaido

But perhaps the deepest impression was made by Seiryuzan Zuigan-ji, a Rinzai Zen Buddhist temple nestled in the heart of Matsushima. Founded in 828 AD, it belongs to the Myōshin-ji branch of Rinzai Zen, and stands as a living monument to the spiritual heritage of Japan. Originally established by Jikaku Daishi, the temple was later rebuilt by Date Masamune in the early 17th century as his family temple. Today, its corridors still echo with centuries of zazen, its wooden halls lined with fusuma paintings and its rock gardens bearing the stillness of practiced emptiness.

To walk through Zuigan-ji was to walk into stillness itself. I remember standing in front of the sando, the long approach path lined with ancient cedar trees, and feeling as though time had slowed to the rhythm of breath. The natural rock caves near the temple—used by monks for meditation centuries ago—seemed to whisper forgotten sutras into the breeze.

There, I felt Basho’s spirit once again. His words from Oku no Hosomichi returned:

"But as the year approached its end my wandering spirit violently asserted itself once more. It was as if I was pursued by a supernatural being whose temptation was more than I could resist... Peace left my heart. My leggings were hurriedly patched and my traveling hat had its strings renewed. My shin was treated with moxa burning. Finally giving my hut up to a friend, I started on the Northern trip, my heart filled with the moonlight that would greet me at—Matsushima!"

                                            It was like a Divine Kami had created this Seascape.

 

Matsushima is considered the third most-visited

tourist destination in Japan. 

This longing for journey—for sacred landscapes and moonlit solitude—is something I have always carried. At Matsushima, and particularly within the hush of Zuigan-ji, I found a kind of echo. A confirmation that the path I walk—between art, spirit, and wandering—is one shared by many before me.

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