Zen Poems Thread

[Shugen]

But it is the dark emptiness contained
in every next moment that seems to me
the most singularly glorious gift,
that void which one is free to fill
with processions of men bearing burning
cedar knots or with parades of blue horses,
belled and ribboned and stepping sideways,
with tumbling white-faced mimes or companies
of black-robed choristers; to fill simply
with hammered silver teapots or kiln-dried
crockery, tangerine and almond custards,
polonaises, polkas, whittling sticks, wailing
walls; that space large enough to hold all
invented blasphemies and pieties, 10,000
definitions of god and more, never fully
filled, never.
- Pattiann Rogers
from The Greatest Grandeur
Firekeeper


Gassho,


Shugen

[Amelia]

Gassho
Is a small,
Sitting Buddha.

[Myosha]

Do not stand at my grave and weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.


Gassho,
Myosha

[Taigu]

Written on Mount Koya as I was walking through the forest and its eery graveyard :

endless retreat
he cannot even complain

a stone Buddha

Gassho

T.

[Jishin]

Written on Mount Koya as I was walking through the forest and its eery graveyard :

endless retreat
he cannot even complain

a stone Buddha

Gassho

T.

Beautiful. 😄

[arnold]

Two poems from many years ago:

Endless is my vow
under the azure sky
boundless autumn

-Soen Nakagawa Roshi

reading that for the first time I replied:

This beginningless vow
falls with the universe
late winter snowstorm

Gassho,
Arnold

[senryu]

A poem by W. H. Auden quoted in a Book of Joko Beck Sensei:

We would rather be ruined than changed,
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.

Gassho
Senryu

[arnold]

"He cannot even complain", really great Rev. Taigu.

[Myosha]

Quick now, here, now, always -
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)

T.S. Eliot

[Guest]

I came across a collection of Japanese death poems or jisei.

In the death poem or jisei, the essential idea was that at one's final moment of life, one's reflection on death (one's own usually but also death in general) could be especially lucid and meaningful and therefore also constituted an important observation about life. The poem was considered a gift to one's loved ones, students, and friends. The tradition began with zen monks.

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ________________

Inhale, exhale
Forward, back
Living, dying:
Arrows, let flown each to
each
Meet midway and slice
The void in aimless flight
--
Thus I return to the
source.

-Gesshu Soko, died January 10, 1696, at age 79

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ________________

The truth embodied in the
Buddhas
Of the future, present,
past;
The teaching we received
from the
Fathers of our faith
Can be found at the tip of
my stick.

-Goku Kyonen, died October 8, 1272, at age 56

The story goes that when Goku felt that his death was close, he gathered his monk disciples around him. Sitting up, he gave the floor a single tap, said the above poem, raised his stick, tapped the floor again, cried, "See! See!" Then, sitting upright, he died.

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ _____________

I pondered Buddha's teaching
a full four and eighty years.
The gates are all now
locked about me.
No one was ever here -
Who then is he about to die,
and why lament for nothing?
Farewell!
The night is clear,
the moon shines calmly,
the wind in the pines
is like a lyre's song.
With no I and no other
who hears the sound?

-Zoso Royo died on the fifth day of the sixth month, 1276, at 84

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ________________

Shinsui, died September 9, 1769, at 49:

During his last moment, Shisui's disciples requested that he write a death poem. He grasped his brush, painted a circle, cast the brush aside, and died. The circle— indicating the void, the essence of everything, enlightenment.

[Jundo]

Myogen Steven Stucky, who left this visible world in December due to pancreatic cancer, left us this penned hours before his death ...

DEATH POEM

This human body truly is the entire cosmos
Each breath of mine, is equally one of yours, my darling
This tender abiding in "my" life
Is the fierce glowing fire of inner earth
Linking with all pre-phenomena
Flashing to the distant horizon
From "right here now" to "just this"
Now the horizon itself
Drops away—
Bodhi!
Svaha.

Myogen
12/27/13

Nine Bows, J

[Amelia]

Gassho Myogen

[Nameless]

Planning Tomorrow, Living Now

Clicking keys, dimming light
Dark blue sky, nearly night
Feet on floor, subtle peace
Humming air, glowing screen
Breathing in, breathing out
Beating heart, stilling doubt
Purring cat, panting dog
Writing down tomorrow's log

Gassho, John

[Myosha]

As a lamp, a cataract, a star in space,
an illusion, a dewdrop, a bubble,
a dream, a cloud, a flash of lightening,
view all created things like this.

Diamond Sutra
(Red Pine translation)

[Myosha]

Zen_humor_Hakuin_ptg_of_monkey_smaller.jpg


Gassho,
Myosha