The flower and the butterfly,
with an empty-mind,
from the garden left alone.
Only the sound of the wind             from the sea.
The image I hold this autumn night,
illuminating the whole universe.

hdrpl

Mind, mind, mind along the road,
grey hair and burning incense.

Too much endless thinking I know,
I waste no thought on the process.

A mind washed away, forms are forms and the depths are still greater.

Outside the clouds
breaking up,
the voice of a true sky.
In autumn, the trees
recall life and death
since time began.
My life is mirrored
in this morning glory.

Each week I go to the temple, to connect and meditate a little. Lunch is served to those who come to the temple. To sit with people… in silence and eat the food.. is for me special in many ways. I wrote this poem this morning.

Autumn ripeness comes before the dark, seeing that all things are not lasting.

Nothing in the cry of the fading
trees and flowers, can fill the void of a dark path trending.

And yet, eternity reveals itself- picking up time not clinging to anything.

A falling leaf nature and early winter rain, speak their silent ways – gentle in speech and actions.

dig

Today, again senses and thoughts
pour and pour sorrowful tears.
Wherever I turn, I see you smiling
living as though there is no final ending.

Between the spirit and the dust
what should I fear?
Death – a message of nothingness, a short sleep past?
Only to wake eternally over again.
What have I lost by death?

rhdr

Below the silent bell
and warm lanterns, with
the sunshine chasing after me.
I asked myself
“what will I be in the future?’
The truth dazzled gradually,
no heavenly miracle.
That which is visible here
on earth, is to discover on earth.
Transparent and clear, yet
void and illuminating.

hdrpl

Some pictures for a visit to my local Buddhist Temple this morning, and a poem I wrote this lunchtime.

Without beams or walls,
just the figures of the night.
Vacant and vague,
no coming, no going.
Awakened, I hear the one
true thing- a poignant sadness
so deeply felt.

Listening to the sounds
at midnight.
I cherish the wind,
and moon in the river.
Taking comfort,
healing as the leaves fall,
a last flicker of lightning.
And you, distant
from my pain and
endless thinking.
When shall we escape
from birth-and-death?

Late in the day,
listening to LCD Soundsystem
and bad dreams.
Expecting words
and recalling my youth,
was I really young once?
When your mind is like mine
it is difficult, to be.
So many are looking for this.

A picture sent by a friend

Woken in the night,
in a sleeping city.
The stars peek faintly
into black space.
All corners of this world,
in silence.
I am alone, in this
passing moment.