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Thus, Day 1 (Poem)
how should I approach this time
whether I sit or walk, I am beseiged
a hundred worrisome concerns cloud my mind
a thousand interwoven sorrows weigh my heart
anywhere I look is filled with shadows
comes an answer:
remember the wheel of sharp weapons turns and turns
you are impaling yourself upon its keen blades
bring to mind again the cause of all suffering
face your self-cherishing as the enemy to blame
grind dirty selfishness into the path of compassion
transform polluted craving into offering great generosity
eat your own poisons so that others might live
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Reckoning (Poem)
if I hold those paintings in my hands
the hurricane will finally hit
the house in which I spent my youth
torn to ruins in the howling storm
everything that I remembered gone
my mother herself now dead
I learned in childhood early on
how to survive such wind and rain
stand in the eye matching its eerie calm
I have no qualms about doing so again
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Same Game, Different Day (Poem)
and so we wait in different ways
discuss-or not-the end of days
this approaching event
we forget that we’ve been here before
the die gets cast again and again
a golden apple caused a war
destroyed a city and founded an empire
all for vanity’s sake
death and the destroyer of worlds
brought horrors beyond imagine
killed people both quickly and slowly
again because of wounded pride
the mad, the bad, and the angry
are still riding the storms of fear
from which they feed and draw their strength
one day, some day, we’ll stop and say
let us not be afraid any more.
