Friday, November 25, 2005

Share the anger, share the angst



The mind of the past is ungraspable;
the mind of the future is ungraspable;
the mind of the present is ungraspable.
--Diamond Sutra

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die

--Basho

Opening bell
echoes from the canyon walls --
raindrops on the river.
The sounds of rocks bouncing off rocks;
the shadows of trees traced on trees




Finally out of reach -
No bondage, no dependency.
How calm the ocean,
Towering the void
--Tessho's death poem

My legacy -
What will it be?
Flowers in spring,
The cuckoo in summer,
And the crimson maples
Of autumn ...
--Ryokan

I sit, still.
The canyon river chants,
moving mountains.

Everything
just as it is,
as it is,
as is.
Flowers in bloom.
Nothing to add.



The sermon spun on the still point:
dropping off eternity, picking up time;
letting go of self, awakened to Mind.

To what shall I compare this life of ours?
Even before I can say
it is like a lightning flash or a dewdrop
it is no more.

Loving old priceless things,
I've scorned those seeking
Truth outside themselves:
Here, on the tip of the nose.

Fathomed at last!
Ocean's dried. Void burst.
Without an obstacle in sight,
It's everywhere!
--Joho

Spring has its hundred flowers,
Autumn its moon,
Summer has its cooling breezes,
Winter its snow.
If you allow no idle concerns
To weight on your heart,
Your whole life will be one
Perennial good season.
--The Golden Age of Zen

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