« So what is so unique about Zen? | Main | A huge part of us is a demon »

October 29, 2018


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

Brother, your heart lacks nothing
Pure, radiant, fulfilled by its own nature
It was perfect from the very beginning.

N. Yeti:

Thank you for attending to my needs.

You stubborn fool
Can you not see kindness is a sword
Which cuts though the ego you cherish?
It does no good to pummel you
Your head is thick, your mind immune to pain
I think a demon king could not throw you.
So instead I use the demon of kindness
To shatter your defenses
And remind you to carry on.

It's all one big ego trip. Dreaming within a dream

Brother, Brother

Ha! Three lines in, and my head was cut clean off,
As blood gushed in every direction without much effort,
I felt like a child again; indeed, compassion is most wondrous!
But still I must ask, why would you think that I need your saving?

Brother, haven't you heard that things have always been,
Perfect just as they are? Why would you hand me a fist of yellow leafs,
When I have a wish-fulfilling gem of my own;
Please don't make things any worse.

Every single affliction within innumerable chiliocosms,
Is but a dot of light, animated by the grace of Mind;
Why would you have me commit further fault?
I manage quite well on my own, dear brother.

I have been down this road many times before, and here I am again.
And even before I heard of the Dharma in this life-time,
I had a most deep fascination with my own mind,
And received plentiful signs in the most vivid of dreams.

When I was a child of four or five years of age,
I would dream of levitating above my sleeping body,
Floating around the room and entering through its walls;
I was always excited about going to sleep,
And experiencing those states.

As a man in my late twenties, I decided to face my demons,
And progressed quickly through the teachings, as I was never satisfied,
And couldn't stand deceiving myself, like the ones I had met
On the Path. Feeling regretful and thinking thus: What a pity, what a pity!

And how can you show me a thing at all about my so-called fire?
Weren't you there when I almost punched through a wall once, in a fiery rage,
Before immediately sitting down to do zazen? And within a short while,
All signs were extinguished, and only lightness and joy remained.

A vastness beyond words, accompanied by a strange and awe-inspiring light,
Suspended in mid-air, as I showed my respects by not moving an inch,
Thinking to myself, and reflecting thus: How could this be?
How could this be?

But your words were quite a surprise, I must admit.
I never expected a love that sincere, and that love reminded me of a night,
In that worn-down little retreat shack, when we met for a brief while,
And shared an intimate moment under a moon ever so full,
And a night-sky quite spotless.

I heard of a good name that auspicious evening,
And have thought of it since. Do you remember, dear brother?
I'm inclined to assume that you do, since you already called out
A name of your own, in a verse filled with compassion and love.

I am in debt to your kindness and companionship, and will repay it all
ten-fold, from one kalpa to the next. But still I wonder, and need to ask:
Why would you inflict upon another, the need to do a single thing?
Whatever is perceived as affliction, is merely deception at best.

Why will you not let me sing a song of hardship and sorrow?
I would never have composed those lines, had I known I would have you
Thus fooled. After all, I declared victory over any grief I met in my travels,
And the monks I sat with under the Bodhi tree can attest to my verses.

Just go ahead and ask.

The comments to this entry are closed.

My Photo