Hallway to Nowhere

  • The Seedling (Poem)

    I walked on the trail and saw

    Amongst the usual plants and trees

    A small sapling that appeared different.

    This thing is not like the other things,

    Thought I. But then I said

    Stop and look again and see.

    I did. Here is what I found:

    Like the other growing things,

    The little seedling grew from the earth;

    The branches reached to the sky;

    The wood was brown and the leaves green;

    The sun and rain and soil nourished it.

    This thing is utterly like the other things.

    So with all, if only we look closely

    With openness.

  • The Gateway (Poem)

    I stand at threshold of the path.

    The gateway stands before me.

    I look once, twice, and yet again.

    At first glance, I see a plain simple structure.

    Then it appears rich, bejeweled, and ornate.

    On third look, it transforms back to an ordinary entrance.

    Will I pass through to start the journey?

    Yes, and yes, and yes.

    All I have to do choose to begin.

    One step, one breath, one life at a time.

  • Where I Live (Poem)

    Where do I take refuge?

    If I build my happiness on external factors,

    I will lose this. Always.

    A futile task, as this brings short-term satisfaction

    Which leaves me wondering where to go next.

    My home will present problems

    So that I move to find a better place. Again and again and again.

    I think surely this time I will be content.

    But there I am, and I remain the same.

    I cannot leave myself behind

    Yet I cast my unease as resulting from the wrong circumstances.

    I want to stay in the place where I dwell

    Without adding to my own suffering.

    Just being alive can bring pain enough.

    Let me learn wisdom, practice kindness,

    Thereby to find peace.

  • How We Weave (Poem)

    Let us consider our actions with care,

    Be they verbal, behavioral, or otherwise.

    Any of these done has force in the world,

    With consequences unforeseen and unknown.

    Each gives rise to a certain tendency of repetition,

    Increasing in weight into often unconscious habit.

    Patterns can trap us in complex webs

    Which take a lifetime or more to unravel.

    Much simpler to choose with intent.

    Not easier, as we are connected with all around us.

    Start now, wherever we are.

  • Karmic Dramas (Poem)

    We often wonder why in terms of personal experience.

    A futile question to ask, for the many causes cannot be determined.

    We have never been a blank slate, to arrive at this moment sui generis.

    We come with so many stories behind us that push us where we are today.

    We are the authors of them all and continue to narrate our ongoing tales.

    These, interwoven with the chronicles of others, shape the current scene.

    All we can do is attempt to ensure our ongoing accounts are the best we can tell.

    Let us choose words more carefully that spread kindness and compassion.

  • Attentional Closet (Poem)

    I open the closet to shine a flashlight on the interior.

    What do I see? It depends upon where I focus the light.

    I can see the clothes and other items,

    To be grateful for what I have.

    I can find dirt and dust,

    To be motivated to clean.

    I can see disorganization and poor design,

    To be inspired to reorder.

    I can find empty holes and disliked objects,

    To feel suffering and lack.

    Whatever I discover, whatever I feel, whatever I do…

    All depends upon where I focus the beam and how I choose to respond.

    The closet itself is simply a space with things.

  • Origination Tea Cup (Poem)

    steam rises from the tea. consider these things

    how did this cup come to be?

    a skilled artisan learned from skilled potters who learned from their teachers and so on

    a ceramic with multiple sources, and also the celadon glaze

    a kiln in which it was fired; wood that provided heat

    a building itself that housed this all

    thus it is with the tea

    tea farmers, masters all, helped by family and community and so on

    (Only a village produces fine tea.)

    trees dependent upon rain, earth, and light

    countless different elements interconnected

    change one, and the whole transforms

    each lift of the cup and sip of the tea,

    the entire world is joined

  • Chimerical Home (Poem)

    We all abide in temporary dwellings; none of our houses do we own.

    Whatever contract we established; whatever money we paid;

    Our residence remains ephemeral and always subject to sudden change.

    No matter what we devote to maintenance and decoration,

    We leave in the end for another transient domicile.

    Another moves in to change all our endeavors.

    Consider carefully where we place our time and effort.

    Wherever we go, we take only ourselves. Where then should be our attention?

  • Reality Tea Cup (Poem)

    Steam rises from the tea.

    Consider these things.

    When I lift the tea cup, I do so with wonder.

    I do not think, “oh, if only I had a different vessel!”

    When I sip the tea, I do so with appreciation.

    I do not think, “oh, if only this were a different drink!”

    This is the cup; this is the tea.

    Right here; right now; where I am in this moment.

    I drink with gratitude and enjoyment.

  • Death Is My Friend (Poem Regarding Yamantaka)

    Death sits with me, my faithful companion.

    We have known each other since my birth.

    Sometimes I have ignored their presence,

    To be startled once more when I noticed them again.

    I remember over and over

    That this is merely my familiar friend.

    Their fierce visage is meant not to frighten,

    Only drive away my aspects which prevent a meaningful happy life.

    When finally we walk away from this existence together,

    I will not be alone but with my dearest guide.