salt was money in the desert but worthless by the sea Value is noticed when it is missing The pure shines out of darkness but is invisible among the angels Insights illuminate space But are lost among themselves We hold precious what is not ordinary Until we know that the ordinary is precious And water that hides diamonds Sparkles like them.
Mind’s children open the door
Hey! Look! No locks any more
They all race out to place their attention
On sensations existing in every direction
The building is quiet, fills up with light
Awareness shines, expanded and bright
The Me resigns and has nothing to do
Except send out an invitation, for You
Burning Burning Burning
Burning, Burning, Burning,
Said the Buddha,
Shopping, having, running, talking
Moving, spending, storing, building,
Needing, fighting, grasping, thinking
We burn with the planet
If we cooled down
We’d find ourselves back home
And deserve it
A New Bird
A new bird arrives
Calls a strange cry
In the stillness
Quiet cuts silence
Is that the way the world is made?
Is that the way the world is known?
Meditate and measure
Come from the same root
Meditation is measuring
What is immeasurable
Until the measurer
Loses the ruler
Walk like a sick man
Said the Burmese monk
Teaching mindful walking.
But I walk like a sick man
Because I am sick:
By effluents and waste
In the ocean of Samsara
Thoughts are not needed
When planting radishes
They talk to each other
That’s quite enough noise
For one day
A Soft Green Touch
A gentle touch on the shoulder
A reminder to come back here
A Zen master wielding a feather
To brush me into awareness?
It was a soft green spring leaf
The carob tree stroking its guest
From Womb to Womb
Dark windy night, resting warm in bed
But wasn’t I in the same place
Earlier, this dark morning, as if a moment ago?
What was, in between the two darknesses?
A crude day that vanished as soon as it appeared
Actions, events, light, movement, fast forward
The timeless, black light before birth
The timeless black light after death
What happened in between the two wombs?
A pulse of disturbing white noise:
The Anicca Syndrome
A degenerative disease
And recovery unlikely.
It has some of these symptoms:
Falling apart at the seams
Feelings of complete unreliability
About the body and mind
Unpredictability of automatic behaviours
Dissolution of bodily forms
Disturbances of expectations
(Anicca in the Buddhist Pali language, means the realization of impermanence)