Just
as day starts fading
night draining
the sky of light
a red throated hummingbird
whirrs in
sipping the cosmos
blooming just for me
Rayn Roberts
Tag: Religion
Motion
You have only to watch white clouds charging a moonlit sky
To know everything is change
Nothing is the same from moment to moment
Nothing exists as we think or feel but for a moment
And not as we feel or think
There is no stasis in darkness, not an instant, everything is motion
In dark and light, deeper than surface change
Being change itself
A reason we cannot feel nor see the Cosmos moving
We are all, each of us
The Cosmos moving at such speed the slow moving mind
Cannot apprehend its fury
Only guesses at its magnitude and beauty
The brain, a fleck of a speck of its dust
A tiny crab in this immense sea of stars
Is lost in its own shell of self– but what, how is it lost
In that which has no root in reality, who can find
What we call a self, place a finger on the unchanging soul
When all is motion?
The self, a soul-grasping bit of imagination, the self
The whiteness of clouds, a wind-ripped sky under a winter moon.
Where Does Buddha Sit?
In truth Buddha nature is everything, so then
Did Buddha nature play a part in
Bombing Nagasaki and Hiroshima and why
Are the histories of the Buddhist east
As bloody and as savage
as the war-torn Christian west?
I have no easy answers
But offer this
Buddha Nature-Nuclear bomb
Nirvana a bomb
To the illusion of self
That’s what nirvana is
No suicide, but still
A gun to the head of self.
Nature says do, survive, assert, intend
Buddha sees the third eye explode
A mushroom cloud in your head–
Buddha sits in every whole and broken atom.
Poem appeared first in
“Of One and Many Worlds”
JUST BREATH
Winter Solstice
Outside the garden store, where I had tried
to find a Christmas tree, a very old woman
sitting near the door, called out to me,
“It’s cold out here!”
“Are you waiting for a ride?”
“Yes, but they’re late…
Can you take me inside?”
I didn’t know how she got there, but knew
She couldn’t wait, and though a stranger
I asked, “Can you stand?”
Then leaning on a cane,
my mother took my hand.
