And are quenched under water
salt was money in the desert
but worthless by the sea
Value is noticed when it is missing
The pure shines out of darkness
but is invisible among the angels
Insights illuminate space
But are lost among themselves
We hold precious what is not ordinary
Until we know that the ordinary is precious
And water that hides diamonds
Sparkles like them.
The Self-School
Mind’s children open the door
Hey! Look! No locks any more
They all race out to place their attention
On sensations existing in every direction
The building is quiet, fills up with light
Awareness shines, expanded and bright
The Me resigns and has nothing to do
Except send out an invitation, for You
Burning Burning Burning
Burning, Burning, Burning,
Said the Buddha,
Shopping, having, running, talking
Moving, spending, storing, building,
Needing, fighting, grasping, thinking
We burn with the planet
If we cooled down
We’d find ourselves back home
And deserve it
A New Bird
A new bird arrives
Calls a strange cry
In the stillness
Quiet cuts silence
Is that the way the world is made?
Is that the way the world is known?
Beyond Measure
Meditate and measure
Come from the same root
Meditation is measuring
What is immeasurable
Until the measurer
Loses the ruler
Contamination
Walk like a sick man
Said the Burmese monk
Teaching mindful walking.
But I walk like a sick man
Because I am sick:
Contaminated, polluted
By effluents and waste
In the ocean of Samsara
Radishes
Thoughts are not needed
When planting radishes
They talk to each other
That’s quite enough noise
For one day
A Soft Green Touch
A gentle touch on the shoulder
A reminder to come back here
A Zen master wielding a feather
To brush me into awareness?
It was a soft green spring leaf
The carob tree stroking its guest
From Womb to Womb
Dark windy night, resting warm in bed
But wasn’t I in the same place
Earlier, this dark morning, as if a moment ago?
What was, in between the two darknesses?
A crude day that vanished as soon as it appeared
Actions, events, light, movement, fast forward
The timeless, black light before birth
The timeless black light after death
What happened in between the two wombs?
A pulse of disturbing white noise:
- life!
The Anicca Syndrome
A degenerative disease
Generally irreversible
And recovery unlikely.
It has some of these symptoms:
Falling apart at the seams
Feelings of complete unreliability
About the body and mind
Unpredictability of automatic behaviours
Dissolution of bodily forms
Disturbances of expectations
Prognosis: bliss.
(Anicca in the Buddhist Pali language, means the realization of impermanence)
Awakening Doesn’t Exist
Awakening doesn’t exist
But in the search for it
We stumble between knowing and being
And accidentally fall into something
While accidentally falling out of
Everything else.
The Glittering Tree
The Shopping Center
Pilgrims at the glittering windows
The Tree of Good For Me, Bad For Me
Has 1000 offerings
And the Tree of Life
Front gate to Garden of Eden
Is buried under the concrete.
Zurich Station
Downstairs
A dangerous place
All seem contented
Under the ground
In bitter solitude
I drink a coffee
Only the apfelstrudel
is genuinely sweet
Beyond the Maps
I put away the maps
And I gave up asking for directions
After endless migrations
I found myself back home.
I couldn’t find it before
Because I was looking out of it.
She Who Dwells Within
Shechina, the Jewish Goddess
Her name means ‘Presence’, or
‘She Who Dwells Within’
We are told that she emigrated
When the Temple was destroyed,
Or was she banished,
By threatened males?
She is only absent
When we are absent
Which is most of the time.
She is homeless
When we are not at home.
She is always left outside
When we shut ourselves inside
The gates of security.
She cannot return to Jerusalem
As long as we kill to possess it.
She is unimpressed
By all the busyness
In the name of God and Spirit.
But when we welcome the world
In an unconditional embrace
Suddenly she is there
And here and everywhere
Invited by authentic knowing
And when we surrender
To this perfect moment
That is born from the womb
Of our fertile being
And fed by the mothers milk
Of appreciation and attention.
Then she unfolds herself
In front of our eyes
And we truly know
She never left
But was too close
For us to notice.
Al Barnett
Four feet treading
On tough Welsh hill grass
We have trod together
40 years on this tough world
Back ends of Camden
Stone corners of Jerusalem
Thorny outcrops in Galilee
Sharing laughs at absurdity
Sharing howls at stupidity
Sharing moments of simplicity
Sharing glances of complicity
Sharing glimpses at insanity
Dancing with your childlike delight
Burning with your righteous anger
Exclaimed but unclaimed
In awe of your creative fire
In oils, stones, inks, glass, words,
And the amazing power of mind
Reaching out and hammering
On the gates of the unknown
And all reduced to ashes?
No, just spread more thinly
Not collected together in one being
But seeded in all of us
And in the Welsh hill grass
Which straightens up
After we have passed over.