A Zen Koan About Existentialism from The Laughing Monk: Entertaining Zen Koan Tales from a Wise Sage

In a small village nestled between the mountains and the sea, there lived an eccentric Zen master named Haru. Haru was known for his peculiar sense of humor and his penchant for bewildering his students with impossible questions. His favorite pastime was reciting funny Koan poems that left everyone scratching their heads in confusion.

One day, Haru gathered his students in the garden for a lesson. The air was crisp, and cherry blossoms danced in the gentle breeze. With a twinkle in his eye, Haru began to speak:

"Listen closely, for I have a riddle,

A tale that twists like a cat in the middle.

When you find the answer, you'll surely see,

The essence of existence, as clear as can be."

The students leaned in, eager to unravel the mystery. Haru continued:

"A man in a mirror, who is he?

Is he you, or is he me?

A fish in a pond, does it dream?

Of rivers wide and oceans gleam?" 

Confounded, the students pondered the imagery. Haru smirked and added:

"A fly on the wall, watching us all,

Does it know the secrets of the hall?

A tree in the forest, does it cry?

When no one's there to hear its sigh?" 

Perplexed, the students exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of these puzzling verses. Haru, seeing their confusion, chuckled softly:

"The answers you seek are not in these lines,

But in the spaces, the gaps, where the mind unwinds.

For life is a riddle with no end in sight,

A dance of shadows, a play of light."

As the students tried to grasp the meaning of Haru's words, he recited the final stanza:

"So laugh at the questions, embrace the absurd,

For the truth is a song that can't be heard.

In the silence, the void, the in-between,

You'll find what it means to truly be seen."

With that, Haru bowed and strolled away, leaving his students to ponder his whimsical verses. They sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts, wondering if they would ever truly understand the enigmatic Zen master. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the cherry blossoms settled for the night, one student finally spoke up:

"Perhaps the joke is on us."

And with that, they all laughed, finding a strange comfort in the shared bewilderment. The mystery of Haru's poem remained unsolved, and maybe, just maybe, that was the whole point.