Rinpoche, when I saw you, many years ago
you said - expressing everything
in three languages and four simple words- :
“rangsem dharmakaya, one space.”
Our own mind and the mind of Buddha,
your mind, all-pervading, uncontrived,
not bound in suffering or stuck in peace,
are one space - from which everything arises.
Our good fortune to be with you has ended,
but - as if a giant bell was struck -
your last teaching of impermanence
rings deeply in our bones and hearts.
May we defeat dull laziness, Rinpoche,
and give rise to heart-felt bodhichitta,
Rinpoche, please return to guide us!
Om Guru Dharmamati Hum!
Friday, July 11, 2014
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
She comes up for air, taking gulps so big they hurt. For a moment, all she feels is the salt stinging in her eyes, deaf to the writhing sea of bodies around her, carrying her on. The light falters. There's no more time. Her muscles seem to tense around her, a silent explosion of colors brighter than anything outside her skin, and then, the music starts again.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
for half a breath
the whisper-thin world
a cuckoo called in the forest
and the stars slowly set
above the hill.
but mist rose up
between a thousand grasses
and took it back again,
dissolved it into prayer,
the living heart
that holds all momentary things inside.
we’re all alone with everyone
and every thing that digs
and swims and flies.
the breath turns endlessly.
a thousand grasses hand it on
to every mist soaked life.
it’s calling out across the valley,
across the slowly turning sky