Pay attention. Trust Life.
You will eventually discover,
with pure and overwhelming delight,
that you are not separate from
That which you are seeking.

- unknown

   
Thoughts are like bubbles floating in a stream
The brilliance of the bubble
the little shining rainbow that it carries
is simply the refection of the light of the sunbeam
the bubble itself has no light
thoughts stimulated by sutras
are brilliant and true

- John Daido Loori Roshi

Clinging to goodness, we hate evil.
Clinging to rightness, we hate fault.
Clinging to ourselves, we cling to others also.
So we suffer through different causes.
Once we contemplate all things as 'blank forms'
All sufferings will just be seen for what they are.
Dharma is beyond rightness & fault.
Clinging to rightness & rejecting faults is not Dharma.
Bring the mind to a state of composure,
Evenness, a state of equanimity,
Till the mind is beyond rightness & fault.
That is the true Dharma.
 
- Phra Ajahn Yantra Amaro   

Love and compassion
are necessities
not luxuries
without them
humanity cannot
survive

- His Holiness the Dalai Lama

  
For as long as space endures
and for as long as living beings remain
until then may I too abide
to dispel the misery of the world

- ShantiDeva

   
Call me by my True names

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow because even today I still arrive.
Look deeply: I arrive in every second to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that are alive.
I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time to eat the mayfly.
I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence, feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms Merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.
I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to my people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.
My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life.
My pain is like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion


- by Thich Nhat Hanh

   
How can I vanish
Before meeting someone
Like a water bubble
Ceaselessly flowing
On a stream of thoughts

- John Daido Loori Roshi

   
The mind-
what can we say of it?
Forms, created by rock shadows.

- John Daido Loori Roshi

...birth of wise understanding
compartmentalization creates
an opposite shadow
an area dark
and hidden
give careful attention
to the states of the heart that prompt action
only when the heart is free of attachment
is the heart open
and acts
wise and compassionate


He was now listening intently, completely absorbed, quite empty
taking in everything
he felt he had now completely learned the art of listening
he had often heard all this before,
all the numerous voices in the river
but today they sounded different
he could no longer distinguish the different voices
the merry voice from the weeping voice
the childish voice from the manly voice
they all belonged to each other
the lament of those who yearn
the laughter of the wise
the cry of indignation and the groan of the dying
they were all interwoven and interlocked
entwined in a thousand ways
and all the voices
all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows,
all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together
was the world
all of them together were the streams of the events
and the music of life
when Siddhartha listened attentively to this river
to this song of a thousand voices
when he did not listen only to the sorrow or laughter
did not bind to any one particular voice and absorb it in himself
he heard them all
the whole, the unity
then the great song of a thousand voices
consisted of one word :
perfection


Peal each flower, petal by petal:
an empty heart,
Peal of bell, durations hum:
an empty heart,
birth to death, essence elusive,
an empty heart,
with a mind/heart full,
compassion perenial,
a hum incessant,
a still point stable,
once proud suffering,
where is thy sting?
done, done, done
the river flows to the sea,
let us, you and I,
let go our sailboats,
watch them drift
slowly away


My flesh and bones
in their journey through the desert
make a quick stop here
and leave a little warmth from the palm of my hand
a bit of the rhythm of the heart
Your voice has reached millions of stars
that all transformed into wonderful teardrops
trembling in the air.
I am sending deep thanks to ten thousand little stars
whose faith is diamond-strong.
You are like flowers blooming
shining brilliantly in the vast realm of consciousness.
Lord Buddha
I call your name
and feel the warmth in my heart.


May I abide in well-being,
in freedom from affliction,
in freedom from hostility,
in freedom from ill-will,
in freedom from anxiety,
and may I maintain well-being in myself.
May everyone abide in well-being,
in freedom from hostility,
in freedom from ill-will,
in freedom from anxiety,
and may they maintain well-being in themselves.
May all beings be released from all suffering
and may they not be parted from
the good fortune they have attained.
When they act upon intention
all beings are the owners of their action,
and inherit its results.
Their future is born from such action,
companion to such action,
and its results will be their home.
All actions with intention,
be they skillful or harmful;
of such acts, they will be the heirs.
Reflections on Benevolence


from Ajahn Sumedho's - The Way It Is    

Beginner's Mind

"It's hard to keep our mind
And practice pure in its fundamental sense.
In Japan we have the phrase shoshin,
which means 'beginner's mind.

The goal of practice is always to keep our beginner's mind.
You might easily lose your original attitude towards it.
For a while you will keep your beginner's mind,
But if you continue to practice,
You are liable to lose the limitless meaning of original mind.

For Zen students the most important thing is not to be dualistic.
Our 'original mind' includes everything within itself.
It is always rich and sufficient within itself.
You should not lose your self-sufficient state of mind.
This does not mean a closed mind,
But actually an empty mind and a ready mind.
If your mind is empty,
It is always ready for anything;
It is open to anything.

In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities;
In the expert's mind there are few.
If you discriminate, you limit yourselfl
If you are demanding or greedy,
Your mind is not rich and self-sufficient.
If we lose our original self-sufficient mind,
We will lose our precepts.
If you keep your original mind,
The precepts will keep themselves.
In the beginner's mind there is no thought,
'I have attained something.'
All self-centered thoughts limit our vast mind.

When we have no thought of achievement,
No thought of self,
We are true beginners.
Then we can really learn something.
The beginner's mind is the mind of compassion.
When our mind is compassionate, it is boundless.
How important it is to resume our boundless original mind.
Then we are always true to ourselves,
In sympathy with all beings,
Then we can actually practice.

So the most difficult thing is
Always to keep your beginner's mind.
There is no need to have a deep understanding of Zen.
You should not say 'I know what Zen is,'
Or 'I have attained enlightenment.'
This is the real secret:
Always be a beginner.
Be very careful about this point.

If you start to practice zazen,
You will begin to appreciate your beginner's mind.
It is the secret of Zen practice.

- By Shunryu Suzuki  

From my human eyes,
I feel it's really impossible to become a Buddha
But this " I", regarding what the Buddha does,
Vows to practice
To aspire
To be resolute
And tells myself, "Yes I will"
Just practice right here now,
and achieve continuity
Endlessly
This is living in vow,
Herein is one's peacful life found.
Renunciation is:
Just this is enough

- Unknown

Journey

Well nothing as off-putting
as one who proudly boasts
"I've got it"
Putting off noble ways,
in arrogance he unwittingly roasts;
Well, he's not "it"
Then Dhamma deep and troubling
stirs the fiery vessel
within inward look
Until the turmoiled bubbling
soothes the inward wrestle:
suffering now forsook
The Buddha's ways ring out
in stainless thought, word, and deed
the bold lion's roar
Of one who's wringed out
delusion and ill-will: take heed
the noble other shore

- Unknown

Up in the sky's expanse, true being, unborn, forever pure
Beautiful is the world below me--how many colors do I see
But when I look I can't find anything that's born or has a root
So the time has come to meditate on true reality, of ego-clinging free
All my possessions, all that I enjoy, are like rainbows in the sky
Even their smallest parts have no essence--they don't exist at all
So when I enjoy illusory pleasures, empty-appearing tea and beer
It's time to rest in mind's full moon--empty awareness, radiant clarity

The stages of practice of the Tathagata's view and meditation
Are skillful methods that clear away ordinary thoughts
So I train in appearance and mind being without base or root
When sickness and death suddenly strike, I'll be ready, without regret

In the pattern that the world and life's appearances weave
Visions of parents, relatives and friends are like illusions and dreams
Like morning mist, they are fleeting, and at the time they dissolve
That's the time to search for unborn confused mind's basic reality

In the baseless, rootless and empty confused appearances of life
We suffer from heat and from cold and from so many other things
But diligence in Secret Yana's practices, so powerful
Makes fox-like cowardice be free all by itself--the time has come!
To what we beautify with hats and clothing--to this heap of elements
We offer tasty food and many other things--whatever we may find pleasing
But the carelessness and craziness of this life will end one day
So be ready to be fearless of the judgement of the mighty Lord of Death

From the country of great snow mountain--a realm of Dharma
Having crossed many hills and valleys and now flying through the sky
I purify illusory flesh and blood into empty-appearing deity
Paths and bhumis' realizations self liberated--in this I train

Ha Ha! Dechen Rangdrol's conduct that's attachment-free
A Ho! It's time to fly in the expanse of sky of spacious Mother

Composed by Khenpo Tsultrim Gyamtso Rinpoche.   

A Teacher Looking For His Disciple

I have been looking for you, my child,
Since the time when rivers and mountains still lay in obscurity.
I was looking for you
When you were still in a deep sleep
Although the conch had many times echoed in the ten directions.
Without leaving our ancient mountain I looked at distant lands
And recognized your steps on so many different paths.
Where are you going, my child?
There have been times when the mist has come and enveloped the remote village but you are still wandering in far away lands.
I have called your name with each breath,
Confident that even though you have lost your way over there you will finally find a way back to me.
Sometimes I manifest myself right on the path you are treading
but you still look at me as if I were a stranger
You cannot see the connection between us in our former lives you cannot remember the old vow you made. You have not recognized me
Because your mind is caught up in images concerning a distant future.
Informer lifetimes you have often taken my hand and we have enjoyed walking together.
We have sat together for a longtime at the foot of old pine trees. We have stood side by side in silence for hours
Listening to the sound of the wind softly calling us
And looking up at the while clouds floating by.
You have picked up and given to me the first red autumn leaf
And I have taken you through forests deep in snow.
But wherever we go we always return to our ancient mountain to be near to the moon and stars
To invite the big bell every morning to sound, and help living beings to wake up.
We have sat quietly on the An Tu mountain' with the Great Bamboo Forest Master
Alongside the frangipani trees in blossom.
We have taken boats out to sea to rescue the boat people as they drift.
We have helped Master Van Hanh design the Thang Long capital we have built together a thatched hermitage,
And stretched out the net to rescue the nun Trac Tuyen4 When!
The sound of The rising tide was deafening On the banks of The Tien Duong river.
Together we have opened the way and stepped into the immense space outside of space.
After many years of working to tear asunder the net of time.
We have saved up the light of shooting stars
And made a torch helping those who want to go home
After decades of wandering in distant places.
But still there have been times when the seeds of a vagabond in you have come back to life you have left your teacher, your brothers and sisters
Alone you go...

I look at you with compassion
Although I know that this is not a true separation
(Because I am already in each cell of your body)
And that you may need once more to play the prodigal son.
That is why I promise I shall be therefor you any time you are in danger.
Sometimes you have lain unconscious on the hot sands of frontier deserts.
I have manifested myself as a cloud to bring you cool shade.
Late at night the cloud became the dew
And the compassionate nectar falls drop by drop for you to drink.
Sometimes you sit in a deep abyss of darkness completely alienated from you true home.
I have manifested Myself as a long ladder and lightly thrown myself down
So that you can climb up to the area where there is light
To discover again the blue of the sky and the sounds of the brook and the birds. Sometimes I recognised you in Birmingham,
In the Do Linh district 5 or New England.
I have sometimes met you in Hang Chau, Xiamen, or Shanghai
I have sometimes found you in St. Petersburg or East Berlin.
Sometimes, though only five years old, I have seen you and recognized you. Because of the seed of bodhchita, you carry in your tender heart.
Wherever I have seen you, I have always raised my hand and made a signal to you,
Whether it be in the delta of the North,' Saigon or the Thuan An Seaport.
Sometimes you were the golden full moon hanging over the summit of The Kim Son Mountain,
Or the little bird flying over the Dai Laoforest during a winter night.
Often I have seen you
But you have not seen me,
Though while walking in the evening mist your clothes have been soaked.
But finally you have always come home.
You have come home and sat at my feet on our ancient mountain
Listening to the birds calling and the monkeys screeching and the morning chanting echoing from the Buddha Hall.
You have come back to me determined not to be a vagabond any longer.
This morning the birds of the mountain joyfully welcome the bright sun.
Do you know, my child, that the white clouds are still floating in the vault of the sky?
Where are you now?
The ancient mountain is still there in this place of the present moment.
Although the white-crested wave still wants to go in the other direction,
Look again, you will see me in you and in every leaf and flower bud.
If you call my name, you will see me right away.
Where are you going?
The old frangipani tree offers its fragrant flowers this morning.
You and I have never really been apart.
Spring has come.
The pines have put out new shining green needles
And on the edge of the forest, the wild Plum Trees have burst into flower.

- by Thich Nhat Hanh    

The sounds of the brooks are all simply the vast, long tongue.
The hues of the mountains are none other than the pure body.
The sounds of the streams and creeks are just like the vast,
long tongue of the Buddha,
proclaiming the wonderful Dharma.

The hues of the green mountains are all the pure Dharma-body,
delighting those who see them.
If you understand this principle,
the absolutely everything in the world is speaking the Dharma.
Good people speak good Dharma for you,
and Bad people speak bad dharma for you.

Horses speak the Dharma of being a horse, and cows speak the Dharma of being a cow.
Cats catch mice, tigers prey on rabbits,
and the weak are eaten by the strong – these are all speaking the Dharma.
Each has its own cause and effect, its own standing, and its own wonderful Dharma.
Professors speak the Dharma of professors,
and students speak the Dharma of students.

Sentient beings are speaking the Dharma,
and insentient things are also speaking the Dharma.
If you can recognize this,
then the green mountains, the white clouds, the yellow flowers,
and the green bamboo are all speaking the Dharma.
All the myriad things and creatures are speaking the Dharma.

Therefore, people should act in an upright way,
be altruistic and unselfish.
Don’t try to take advantages.
If you gain advantages by forcing it, you are actually taking a loss.
It is said, "To take a loss is to gain an advantage."
Keep that in mind, and don’t forget it!

If you’re not supposed to gain an advantage,
but you insist on getting it, you will just lose capital.
If you’re supposed to gain an advantage, and you don’t try to get it,
you are putting a deposit in the(karma) bank.
Thus, each person should stand in his proper place and do his best to fulfill his obligations.
You should not be greedy .

This is also speaking the Dharma.
The emerald-green bamboo is just the Dhrama-body.
The thriving yellow flowers are nothing but Prajna.
That’s how we should contemplate them.
If you understand, you can put it down.
If you don’t understand, you will be attached.

- unknown   

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy
through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked
in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life
and my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment

- by Rabindranath Tagore

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
"It is futile," I said,
"You can never -"

"You lie," he cried,
And ran on.
    A man saw a ball of gold in the sky;
He climbed for it,
And eventually he achieved it --
It was clay.
Now this is the strange part:
When the man went to the earth
And looked again,
Lo, there was the ball of gold.
Now this is the strange part:
It was a ball of gold.
Aye, by the heavens,
it was a ball of gold.
A man said to the universe: (XXI)

A man said to the universe:
"Sir I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation."

- by Stephen Crane

   
Pali Poetry


Mother Rain
S 1:80

The rain pours down on weak and strong
As a mother nurtures her child.
The spirits of the rain sustain
All creatures who dwell on the earth.


Slipping Away
Herannakani Thera
Thag 145

Days and nights go hurtling by
Till our lifetime comes to an end.
The life of mortals slips away
—Like the water of tiny streams.   


Gurgling Loudly
Nalaka Sutta
Sn 720

Listen to the sound of water
In the clefts and in the gullies:
The tiny streams gurgle loudly
—Mighty waters flow in silence.


Rain Cloud
Annakondanna Thera
Thag 675

Just as a rain-cloud would settle
The dust that’s been raised by the wind,
So all conceptions come to rest
—When one sees clearly with wisdom.

     translated by Andrew Olendzki

See the weary traveller;
How he suffers carrying everything he owns,
Ten years worth,
Twenty years worth,
Wondering why.
Upset at how the years have gone.
And many have taken him in,
Offering him shelter from the constant storms.
But the storms are within him.
And in his anger, he can always find something wrong;
"The bed is too hard"
"They were not so kind"
"I am not welcome anywhere"
"This is not the truth I was meant to find".
One day he met a calm man
That in anger, he could not shake.
The men greeted each other with smiles and bows,
One in kindness, the other, fake.
"Would you take tea with me?", the calm man asked
"Yes thank you." the angry man replied.
So the man set off to make his tea
Leaving the angry man there for awhile.
And while he waited, his anger grew,
Harsh and loud like a storm of the sea.
He thought long about how rude his host was
For keeping him waiting,
And what he would say when he returned;
How he would show him humility.
Hours past and day became night
Finally the calm man returned with just one cup of tea.
"This is the best tea from my village." he said,
"We serve it for only most honored guests.
It takes a very long time to brew
because we can only pick and steep the leaves
when the leaves are just right."
The angry man sat staring at the beautiful tea cup
and the hot tea steaming inside
In it, he could see the many people picking the leaves.
He could hear their prayers and chants,
He could see their smiles,
How heavy their burdens were,
And yet, how light their lives seemed.
He looked deeper and could see the earth blossoming
The simply beauty of both flowers and trees.
At the bottom of the cup there was a single tea leaf
Rolled up like a pearl
"You left something in my tea." he said quietly.
The calm man smiled and touched the mans hands.
"Many decorate themselves with jewels." he said,
"But the grandest most beautiful jewel of all, is within.
Hidden beneath our fragility,
Hidden far beyond our every day sight,
Buried in the places we'd rather not go,
Beneath all the hurt we'd rather deny,
So in our tea, the curled green leaf is a reminder
to cultivate the inner jewels that cannot be seen."
"Then why did you offer it to me?" the angry man asked,
"I am not worthy of such things.
I hate and rage, am ungrateful and unkind.
I am a foolish man, foolish, cruel and blind.
I have hurt more than I have helped,
and have left so many feeling angry and used.
Why give me such a gift?
Why share with me this "precious jewel"?
"Every being is worthy.
Every being has such worth inside,
No matter how deep they bury it,
No matter how hard it is to find,
We offer only what we have to give
And ask nothing of you in return.
Drink the tea my friend,
May we all work with joy to cultivate and share
the very best of ourselves
We cannot always stop the storms,
But we can always learn to act in love, not abuse."

- Stories from the Heart - J. Edwards.

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