Enough meditation, three a.m. earbuds Dream # 9
reading Merton’s Seven Story Mountain in stillness,
the temple bell shakes the universe, calling monks
to save all beings in hell, a cock crows in darkness.
A half moon spins the stars in a black pool forming
on land in sea the spirit dance unfolding nonetheless.
Do not count the cost, no one, nothing is ever lost.
In fitful sleep I wake to the apple autumn morning
dressing herself in crimson, grey, brown and gold.
There’s a bus to nowhere, somewhere I think home.
I feel the half moon human mind moving to fullness
asking clearly, “Will you stay with the solemn monks
Or return to mad electric nights of paradise in Seoul?”
Sleep walking dreamer that I am, I hesitate, can’t wait
To go back to a circle of friends, lovers I know, my bed
a dream-pond of incarnadine leaves sinking to rest,
the bell is tolling, calling, shaking me awake, I think
but it’s just the glaring city moon tapping on a window.
Rayn Roberts 2019
Rayn Roberts 2019
“Dream #9” is the song by John Lennon
The need to return to origin
True as the need of home
Rush of red shoreline kelp
The coupling of crabs, flash
Of Garibaldi in tidal pools
But a reason for rock foam
Breaker gull sky– unknown.
Each salty breath brings me
To being in you, Uterus of
Life and Death, great Mother
You hold all my answers
Teach me just who I am:
Many, but one, isolated in
An interconnection of Love
Never greater than now
These unbearably clear days
Blood-burst of mystic ocean
The wonder of hearing in all
The endless hum of gestation
Spun in a womb of silence
The mantra of waves.
Photo, Cape Flattery, by Rayn Roberts
Painting by KATHY COLLINS from exhibit at Tsuga Fine Arts
Nothing you were to think, feel, know, remains intact
The givens all gone, the body unravels
The soul does not exist: where spirit seemed to breathe
A great hole deepens, a sea of liquid sound spills in
Pure as God’s voice, moonlight-shoals and starry reefs
In vacancies of time too wide to navigate, the soul
A supreme fiction, a lost frame in an old film
Lightens out of being, a dream in pure color, sensation
Glittering the last hour, the lives that lived you
And left you to wonder, completely gone, directions
Collapse in light, light in all from all
Nothing to hold you, what you are dissolves in awe
A dreadful wonder of knowing all and nothing at all
But the jewel in the lotus, this, this moment.
Flowers, candles, incense
Outer symbols of inner realities!
The smile from the center
of the heart
Shines in all directions, outward…
The Poem appeared first in “The Fires of Spring” a book of poems
by Rayn Roberts 2002
Easier it is to lift
a ten ton boulder
on a mountain
than to calmly sit
and put a collar
on an unruly mind.
Rayn Roberts 2017
When the sun goes down
and darkness deepens
when candles burn out
around a Buddha,
is a Buddha still a Buddha
if no light reveals a Buddha?