In the warmth of the house all seems to be at peace.
Through the window the night reflects the calm of the cold and dark.
Only by the lamp-post can the wind and snow be seen.
Over and over tonight I looked out the window. It seemed calm and peaceful. Each time I turned to the light of the lamp-post to see the wind and snow. Which of these is the true night?
Breathing in; the music of the universe
breathing out; the music of the universe
not breathing; the music of the universe.
Neither ordinary nor special.
It does not reach outward, but all things are held in its arms.
In the midst of the 10,000 things, profound power.
Without doing a single thing, all things are complete.
Lunch time at work. Nothing specific to say, but I felt like writing. Feeling at ease in the midst of great activity. Saving beings as they arise.
My chair is firm,
My coffee is cool enough to drink.
For the moment, there is nowhere to go.
In the midst of pending activity,
My spirit is at rest.
What is the shape of the boundless?
Soon the form of the day will shift and unfold.
Part of the story of my life is being on the go. As I develop and mature, I really value the ability to just sit and be present, without getting wrapped up in what is about to come. Actually, it makes me think of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. The is a moment when Qui Gon Jin (Liam Neeson) is fighting Darth Maul and an energy door closes between them. They can see each other, and know it will open soon, but for now must wait. Darth Maul paces impatiently, scraping his lightsaber on the ground. Qi Gon kneels and meditates. I imagine that his moment of mediation was no different in focus, calm and clarity than those experienced in the peace of days gone by. (I am also saddened that spell-check does not recognize lightsaber as a word).
The snow has melted, exposing an earth of green and brown.
Like roots stretching up to the heavens, the bare trees take nourishment from the blue sky.
Life, ever-present, manifests clearly.
Rooted and boundless, the universe is just This!
Looking out on a beautiful spring afternoon from a local coffee shop, I was swept up by the perfect of human movement. Each person, going about their business, manifesting the Great Way as best they can. As I widened my gaze, I saw that the sun, grass and trees were going about their business in the same way. How wondrous this life.
Dark twisted shadows,
Strengthen as daylight fades.
New world born by night.
This is another poem from an earlier project. Although I feel that these early haiku are very mechanical, I like this one. This was born out of some camping experience, of which I have forgotten the details. I remember marveling at how the woods surrounding my camp seemed to transform as the sun set.
Tasks, long and grand show clearly the transient nature of things. Each stage is so unique, but the beginning and end are only a frame of one thing.
Why am I so clumsy and gross? All existence is such.
Water always runs down the mountain, but yesterdays drops are long gone, fulfilling functions both exotic and mundane.
Ha! Even the frame is an illusion.
I wrote this on waking early, on the last day of sewing for Jukai. I had plodded along at what seemed to be a reasonable pace. As those who finished early helped those furthest behind, I found myself the last one done. It showed me some snags in my practice. Being last, missing dinner to finish; I was surprised to find a heavy story about myself in the process. Holding on to images, even though briefly was an unsettling experience. "It was supposed to be THIS way, dang it!". It is very comical now, but it shocked me how much weight the "story" had, when I did not even know I had been writing it. In the heat of moment, the practice did not manifest the words that tried to describe it. I will endeavor to be better aware of my own expectations and how they can become hooks.
When it was al done, and I had sat a bit with the experience and my reaction to it, I wrote another poem, before going to sleep that day.
Diving deep, I was taken aback by what I found:
Fear of failure
Feeling separated
feeling unequal
feeling inferior
feeling that I had disappointed others.
Gaining my bearings, the silt settles and the water clears:
I succeeded in every moment
I am one with the Sangha
All being has the original nature
The things that happen to me are not me
This family knows I manifest true nature and that I practice in ernest.
This needless fuss has left me tired and worn out.
How silly.
The snow falls,
Gentle but relentless,
Today it teaches silence.
Coating the details of the world,
All things illuminate day,
Radiant and reflective.
At the knee of the teacher,
I look inward for the qualities.
The teacher is no person. In a moment of rest on retreat (Feb. 2010), I looked of my window to a brilliant white snowfall that coated a courtyard. I found guidance in the moment. Unknown to me at the time, the day had much heat in store for me. The lesson helped, but was hard to stay with.
Sitting by lamplight,
the activity of the day eases into stillness.
The quiet of the night sings sweetly,
beckoning me to the days final task.
A familiar fatigue settles in like an old friend,
sensing the softness of the bed in which it will soon rest.
This was one of my first poems in my 2nd or 3rd go-round at the effort. At this time, it was very recent. Settling down for bed on the first night of TZC's Jukai retreat, the night held me like a parent guiding a sleepy child by the shoulders as they make their way from the car to bed, having come home far too late.
Strong twisted old roots,
Anchor solidly to the earth,
Trees reaching to stars.
My interest in Zen poetry goes back a number of years. My early attempts focussed on Haiku and were very mechanical, and I must admit, I did not see much beyond the mechanics. I just tried to center myself and come up with something cool. I remember writing this one completely indoors, away from any windows, int he middle of the day. I like how it came out.
As well this was part of an art project I attempted in which I would write a poem and then illustrating it in some fashion.
