The Everlasting Voices

O sweet everlasting Voices, be still;
Go to the guards of the heavenly fold
And bid them wander obeying your will,
Flame under flame, till Time be no more;
Have you not heard that our hearts are old,
That you call in birds, in wind on the hill,
In shaken boughs, in tide on the shore?
O sweet everlasting Voices, be still.

William Butler Yeats

Since pure awareness of nowness is the real buddha, In openness and contentment I found the Lama in my heart. When we realize this unending natural mind is the very nature of the Lama, Then there is no need for attached, grasping, or weeping prayers or artificial complaints, By simply relaxing in this uncontrived, open, and natural state, We obtain the blessing of aimless self-liberation of whatever arises. DUDJOM RINPOCHE

In stubborn stupidity, I live on alone
befriended by trees and herbs.
Too lazy to learn right from wrong,
I laugh at myself, ignoring others.
Lifting my bony shanks, I cross the stream,
a sack in my hand, blessed by spring weather.
Living thus, I want for nothing,
at peace with all the world.

Your finger points to the moon,
but the finger is blind until the moon appears.
What connection has moon and finger?
Are they separate objects or bound?
This is a question for beginners
wrapped in seas of ignorance.
Yet one who looks beyond metaphor
knows there is no finger; there is no moon.

~Ryokan

*photo of Libya Solar Eclipse by mi padre Kyle Carmona

The Poet's Obligation
To whoever is not listening to the sea
this Friday morning, to whoever is cooped up
in house or office, factory or woman
or street or mine or harsh prison cell:
to him I come, and, without speaking or looking,
I arrive and open the door of his prison,
and a vibration starts up, vague and insistent,
a great fragment of thunder sets in motion
the rumble of the planet and the foam,
the raucous rivers of the ocean flood,
the star vibrates swiftly in its corona,
and the sea is beating, dying and continuing.

So, drawn on by my destiny,
I ceaselessly must listen to and keep
the sea's lamenting in my awareness,
I must feel the crash of the hard water
and gather it up in a perpetual cup
so that, wherever those in prison may be,
wherever they suffer the autumn's castigation,
I may be there with an errant wave,
I may move, passing through windows,
and hearing me, eyes will glance upward
saying, "How can I reach the sea?"
And I shall broadcast, saying nothing,
the starry echoes of the wave,
a breaking up of foam and of quicksand,
a rustling of salt withdrawing,
the grey cry of sea-birds on the coast.

So, through me, freedom and the sea
will make their answer to the shuttered heart.

~Pablo Neruda

The Celestial Fire: Yannai

Now an angel of the Lord appeared to Moses in a blazing fire --

a fire that devours fire;
a fire that burns in things dry and moist;
a fire that glows amid snow and ice;
a fire that is like a crouching lion;
a fire that reveals itself in many forms;
a fire that is, and never expires;
a fire that shines and roars;
a fire that blazes and sparkles;
a fire that flies in a storm wind;
a fire that burns without wood;
a fire that renews itself every day;
a fire that is not fanned by fire;
a fire that billows like palm branches;
a fire whose sparks are flashes of lightning;
a fire black as a raven;
a fire, curled, like the colours of the rainbow!

This rare and heavenly creature

This rare and heavenly creature
alone without peer
look and it's not there
it comes and goes but not through doors
it fits inside a square-inch
it spreads in all directions
unless you acknowledge it
you'll meet but never know

~Han-Shan (Cold Mountain)

Last night was clear and i fell asleep to the stars gleaming through my closed eyelids.
Last night i danced 'eighties' style before embracing in a sacred hug with a group of friends; i gave an hour long massage as the person on my table wept; i played tickle monster with baby Theo long after he tired of it (but i had not!)
This June day is my Mom's birthday.
What a gift that she is!
i have her heart. i have her sensitivity. i have her love for babies.

This June morning i awoke to the sounds of hail upon my window.
It reminds me that each day the flavors are different;
while some days are 'good' and others may be 'bad'
always, always, always
i can feel my mother's heart
and i know
in the end
everything will be just fine.

Happy Birthday Mamacita! karen Loves you!

painting by Liang Kai

Emptiness is a long story

Emptiness is a long story
that swallows up heaven and earth
a splash of ink turns into two dragons
stray clouds become an azure dog

~Shih Shu

Hey! Lean to hear my feeble voice.
At the center of the sacred hoop
You have said that I should make the tree to bloom.

With tears running, O Great Spirit, my Grandfather,
With running eyes I must say
The tree has never bloomed

Here I stand, and the tree is withered.
Again, I recall the great vision you gave me.

It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives.
Nourish it then
That it may leaf
And bloom
And fill with singing birds!

Hear me, that the people may once again
Find the good road
And the shielding tree.

~Black Elk

---

First, you must let your heart
be broken open
in a way you have never
felt before,
cannot imagine.

You will
not know if what you are
feeling
is anguish or joy,
something predestined
or merely old wounds
flowing once more,
reminders of all that is
unfinished in your life.

Something will flood into
your chest
like air sweetened by
desert honeysuckle,
love that is too
strong.

You will stand there,
very still,
not seeing what this is.
Later, you will not remember
any of this
until the next time
when you will say,
yes, yes, I have known this before,
it has come again,
just as your eyes fold under
once more.

"Taken"
2006 Dorothy Walters

God is not unknown on account of obscurity
but on account of the abundance of brightness.
-- St. Thomas Aquinas

Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them have I felt about me, searching and touching my world.
It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart.
They guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain, and, at last, to what palace gate have they brought me in the evening at the end of my journey?

~Tagore

You glide between the heart and its casing as tears glide from the eyelid.
You dwell in my inwardness, in the depths of my heart, as souls dwell in bodies.
Nothing passes from rest to motion unless you move it in hidden ways,
O new moon.

~Hallaj

FROM THE MOUNTAIN ASTROLOGER MAGAZINE

This is the second Full Moon in Scorpio-Taurus this year, heightening the contrast between what we want to cultivate and what we need to release.

With the Sun in Taurus, the first earth sign, the cosmic quiz is on matter. How are we doing in the world of form? How well are we taking care of our bodies, our resources, our planet?

Chiron, Mercury, and Neptune are all just days away from turning retrograde, amplifying their influence around this Full Moon.

On May 25, Chiron stations retrograde...the archetype of the Wounded Healer moves backward until October 25, encouraging the reclamation of our hopes and dreams.

On May 26, Mercury stations retrograde until June 19...the Messenger breaks up old mental patterning and fosters the reconfiguration of new neural pathways.

Also on May 26, Neptune stations retrograde...adding to Chiron's cosmic call for dreaming a new dream.

The Sabian symbols emphasize that this is a time of significant endings and beginnings. What are you living for? And what would you die for?

Remember that you are spirit playing in form.

"Be noble, for you are of the stars; be humble, for you are of the earth." (Slavic proverb)

"The Spirit of God, I realized, is exhaustless Bliss; His body is countless tissues of light." ~ Paramahansa Yogananda

Renunciation has both sadness and joy in it: sadness because you realize the futility of your old ways, and joy because of the greater vision that begins to unfold when you are able to let go of them. This is no ordinary joy. It is a joy that gives birth to a new and profound strength, a confidence, an abiding inspiration that comes from the realization that you are not condemned to your habits, that you can indeed emerge from them, that you can change, and grow more and more free. Sogyal Rinpoche

why fear this moment
when no thoughts come
at last I lie naked
in the arms of experience
why fear this moment
when no words come
at last I find rest
in the lap of silence
why fear this moment
when love finds itself alone
at last I am embraced
by infinity itself
why fear this moment
when judgment falls away
at last my defenses
fail to keep intimacy at bay
why fear this moment
when hope is lost
at last my foolish dreams
are surrendered to perfection


-- from the Gifts with No Giver: a love affair with truth, by Nirmala

The Dalai Lama has said: "There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; my philosophy is kindness."

At Tower Peak

Every tan rolling meadow will turn into housing
Freeways are clogged all day
Academies packed with scholars writing papers
City people lean and dark
This land most real

After a long day's walking
Packing burdens to the snow
Wake to the same old world of no names,
No things, new as ever, rock and water,
Cool dawn birdcalls, high jet contrails.
A day or two or million, breathing
A few steps back from what goes down
In the current realm...

A kind of ice age, spreading, filling valleys
Shaving soils, paving fields, you can walk in it
Live in it, drive through it then
It melts away
For whatever sprouts
After the age of
Frozen hearts...

Twenty million human people, downstream, here below.

Gary Snyder
(some lines have been omitted)

"Night Mirror"

Li-Young, don't feel lonely
when you look up
into great night and find
yourself the far face peering
hugely out from between
a star and a star. All that space
the nighthawk plunges through,
homing, all that distance beyond embrace,
what is it but your own infinity.

And don't be afraid
when, eyes closed, you look inside you
and find night is both
the silence tolling after stars
and the final word
that founds all beginning, find night,

abyss and shuttle,
a finished cloth
frayed by the years, then gathered
in the songs and games
mothers teach their children.

Look again
and find yourself changed
and changing, now the bewildered honey
fallen into your own hands,
now the immaculate fruit born of hunger.
Now the unequaled perfume of your dying.
And time? Time is the salty wake
of your stunned entrance upon
no name.

~Li-Young Lee

"Parting" by Li Po

Green mountains rise to the north;
white water rolls past the eastern city.

Once it has been uprooted,
the tumbleweed travels forever.

Drifting clouds like a wanderer's mind;
sunset, like the heart of your old friend.

We turn, pause, look back and wave,
Even our ponies look back and whine.