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Tai Shi
01-25-2018, 01:28 PM
When sitting on a Thursday morning

I open my flower,
for as a man, I am woman
I mean not in sex
I mean in spirit
non extant without love
and freedom into night
Love of flowers
Love of song, equality
In thought, smell
Perfume of roses, undone
Chain of being, we explain,

We wonder about daffodils,
About chrasanthamums
about TOPICS OF ZEN
Sitting of Soto, so what
Of Soto, what does it mean
No bad sitting, among
Flowers, among crowns
Of stem, of petals
Tibia of roses, of all
Flowers, sitting
Upon stems no chaos
Sitting just sitting
Shikantaza, Jukai,
Final Rakusu, Precepts
Freedom to live one's life
In accordance
With loving Kindness
and equality of each flower?

Tai Shi
sat today/lah
Gassho
Deepest Bows.

Tai Shi
01-25-2018, 01:34 PM
All, and every member may post here, there are no restriction about kinds of poetry or verse, and so long as one does not violate common sense, loving kindness, openness, equality, acceptance and the attitudes of respect for others, attempts at equanimity, one my post anything, even any kind of prose, or examples from other poets such from Eastern or Western cultures.

Tai Shi
sat today
Gassho

Beldame
01-28-2018, 08:47 PM
Wordsworth "Expostulation and Reply":

"WHY, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, sit you thus alone,
And dream your time away?

"Where are your books?--that light bequeathed
To Beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
From dead men to their kind.

"You look round on your Mother Earth,
As if she for no purpose bore you;
As if you were her first-born birth,
And none had lived before you!"

One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
When life was sweet, I knew not why,
To me my good friend Matthew spake,
And thus I made reply:

"The eye--it cannot choose but see;
We cannot bid the ear be still;
Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
Against or with our will.

"Nor less I deem that there are Powers
Which of themselves our minds impress;
That we can feed this mind of ours
In a wise passiveness.

"Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum
Of things for ever speaking,
That nothing of itself will come,
But we must still be seeking?

"--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
Conversing as I may,
I sit upon this old grey stone,
And dream my time away,"

Gassho--
Deborah

SatToday

Rich
01-28-2018, 11:03 PM
dreams of spring flowers
Counting winter Chrystal stars
The sun king expands

SAT today
[emoji120]


Sent from my XT1585 using Tapatalk

Tai Shi
02-07-2018, 01:37 PM
Honesty

from the 12 X 12 of AA

Who wishes to be rigorously honest/and tolerant?
Who wants to confess and make Restitution for harm done?
Who cares anything about a Higher Power, let alone meditation and prayer?
Who wants to sacrifice time and energy in trying to carry A,A,'s message
To the next sufferer? No not the average alcoholic, self-centered
In the extreme, doesn't care for this prospect--
Unless he has to do these things in order to stay alive himself.

Tai Shi
02-07-2018, 01:43 PM
Again--all members may post here any poetic prose or poetry that follows our Precepts, new members, old members, just any person at all, deep bows, Gassho Tai Shi.

Tai Shi
02-12-2018, 01:44 PM
Let Us Remember Joy

Let us remember joy
Because of light unto
Another sky of Love,
Compassion,
Letting go of memory
Simple like wrens
In flight before Sun
Predicting spring
Compassion because
Wrens do not go south
For winter, stay
Outside in evergreen
Bushes building little
Hideaways below windows
Where our heating vents
Stay warm all winter.

"Oh Father, you made
That willow reed whistle
At Lion's Camp in spring,
While birds sang in morning
As I sat in warmth
Singing my song
After night with you."
Sun came at six a.m. light,
We sat together
My dad, my surrender
As finally after sixty-six
Years I asked, "Oh, father,
Do you love me,
Do you love your sons?"

My brother asking much
Like stone before sky
Of orange morning lust,
"I love you each in different ways,
I love you both because that's
Part of families, that's
Where we go, that's what we do"
Like birds sustaining
Days I never spoke
Or never gave him
Warmth because we'd flown,
Finally brother came to me
Asking, sat before morning
Allowing distance two-thousand
miles of sand I did not have,
"That's part of families
Unspeakable Love,
Never said at birth,
We,ve known it all along
Since we were born.
You must believe."
I asked the hollow
Truth, solitude writing poems,
Nesting chartered in our path
Outside my window,
Crack of dawn, took flight
In snow predicting hatchlings,
They never left in winter
But sang hidden songs
As Songbirds of morning light
Cold, ruffled into day
Given over predictions
Of spring, constant

Love, Father, we are yours
Son's with love found again
Communion of nature
As February into expectations
Of days without cold,
Without cold in Midwestern
Frost on snow, as our Western
California days became compassion
Father with my brother across billions
Of miles singing electric apples
sounds into sunlight
Foreshadowed as we talked
Of daughter Laurel
In St Louis singing books
My wife Marjorie, my pearl,
Brother Robert obstinate,
His son Ian invisible,
Ian's son baby Hudson,
Me, strongest, without pain
With sanity brought us to father
Like some Buddha nature
Like Christ risen from death
A different crusification of us all

In compassion of light
Took flight into air
We gathered family
No more leaving,
Finally coming together
To dare giving each others'
Mothers gone like wrens
Who leaving in morning light
Or heaven deeply gone
We loved us each other
Compassion in memory
We lived again, all of us
Family alone beyond winter
Beyond death, foreshadowed
By both our belief in love,
Divisions of divorce melted,
Away, but my brother still
From winter's night would give
Nothing, but we gave eternal warmth
To him living in generations immortal
Risen yet again, that Love
I'd finally found our father
Each of us alone, together
Like Birds nesting in spring
Our birthright recognition,
Given once again silent
Except in kindness,
Our father's gift.

Tai Shi, 2-12-2018
sat this morning/lah
Gassho and deepest bows

aprapti
02-12-2018, 08:16 PM
Each of us alone, together
Like Birds nesting in spring
Our birthright recognition,
Given once again silent
Except in kindness,
Our father's gift.

Tai Shi, 2-12-2018
sat this morning/lah
Gassho and deepest bows

Tai Shi, i wish you all the best with your knee-surgery.

gassho2
coos

std

moshezhang88
02-21-2018, 08:20 AM
I try to hold the name of something, (pin the name on the donkey) but that name keeps falling off.
I try to maintain the characteristics of something, but those characteristics keep falling off.
I try to guard the meaning of something, but that meaning keeps falling off.
How miserable..... no.... how wonderful!

Shou An
Gassho
Sat Today

Michael Joseph
03-10-2018, 04:57 PM
Flaw

These days, practice is difficult,
bowing to soap scum in the mirror.
Birdsong is not just birdsong.
Skin: parchment-illuminated.

Gassho,
Michael
Sattoday

Tai Shi
03-18-2018, 12:05 PM
My knee is a success, and I am walking on two legs with two artificial knees working well. So, I will walk to the park, three and half blocks away in a few weeks--thank you for ALL your thoughts and sitting, Shikantaza and mindfulness. THIs SpaCE is for the ENTIRE SANGHA, and anyone can and can post here your writing, big and small, prose and poetry--please post.

Tai Shi
sat today
Gassho

Jundo
03-19-2018, 01:18 AM
My knee is a success, and I am walking on two legs with two artificial knees working well. So, I will walk to the park, three and half blocks away in a few weeks--thank you for ALL your thoughts and sitting, Shikantaza and mindfulness. THIs SpaCE is for the ENTIRE SANGHA, and anyone can and can post here your writing, big and small, prose and poetry--please post.

Tai Shi
sat today
Gassho

It seems a kind of Kinhin (walking Zazen) with all your small steps.

I am glad that your are recovering.

Gassho, Jundo

SatTodayLAH

Rendulic
03-19-2018, 07:49 PM
In an attempt to stay engaged and avoid my smartphone, I have been writing haiku during breaks in meetings or when I return to my seat and the discussion has not yet begun:

A five-minute break
lurches bull-like against stalls
of time and purpose

Myogan
03-20-2018, 05:17 AM
Frustration isn’t who,
Frustration isn’t what,
Frustration isn’t how,
Frustration isn’t why,
Frustration isn’t.

Sat

Getchi
03-20-2018, 10:02 PM
On one turn,
the river banked.
Its faith is
reward ed.

- fishing for dinner, Sunfaced buddha revealed mountain pass.



Gassho,
Geoff.

SatToday
Lay.

Meishin
03-27-2018, 03:25 PM
An eastern screech owl
sits zazen
in a branch outside this window.

She is a small mountain
we walk beneath.

The tree holds her gently and securely.
High winds don't seem to bother anyone.

Gassho
Meishin
Sat Today LAH

Tai Shi
04-04-2018, 12:30 PM
Today my leg--knee itches
For the first time
Sign of oncoming muscles
I make arrangements
For exercise, free two months
At hospital gym.
I will find something
Of upper body there,
Then back to senior center
Supervised exercise rooms
Thankfully I volunteer there.

Tai Shi
Gassho
sat today/lah

Tai Shi
04-15-2018, 12:32 PM
It's morning 7:14
Wondering why comes so late

Why our Zendo gives no poems
We sit in unconventionality

Nothing of other poems
In our online Zendo, please

Please write with heart, or
Mindfulness, ours is a silent

Zendo Shikantaza sit 5 minutes
Or 10, or 20, or 35, or 60,

No limit or expectation, into no
No expectation into nothing

Let us rise, gaining into nothing
Rise to poems or mental exercises with body

Silent half days from 2:37 a.m. rise from sleep
Poems for ALL, all may come to write Zen

Buddha nature into silent moods, comfort
Requiem Agnus Daie

May we understand each other in spite of death
We write with pens of pain no sorrow, nothing

No mouth, mouth, no pencil, pencil, let go
Write for mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, Zendo,

More, all may come here, no restriction, all
May come, bring any mindfulness, bring any soul

Bring your sorrow, bring your pain or celebration
All are welcomed with joy returning as to father

Son, into open arms, caring for those by roadside
Those left to die, our responsibility, our middle way.

Tai Shi
sat this morning
Gassho, deep bows to all our Zendo
Come and write most anything.

Billy
04-16-2018, 05:17 PM
The candle’s flame,
Once new and bright,
Diminished over time,
The wick grew smaller,
As it cut,
deeper into the center,
The flame is now small,
The light is now fainter,
And flickers quietly,
On the last piece of wax.
If I were to grab it,
It would burn me,
Just the same.


Gassho,
SatToday,
Billy

Mitka
04-20-2018, 04:12 PM
the crimson sun sets
beneath a dying world


I continue my meditation

Mitka
04-23-2018, 07:22 PM
An allosaurus roars.
The herd of stegosaurus stampedes.
This too, is Buddha.

Getchi
04-25-2018, 12:19 AM
Once, I wounded,
Yet still I think.

When I was young,
it was a fantasy.
now I'm here,
She with me.

A great tragedy is all
I see.
Sitting,
Sitting,


I sat.
I wait.



Gravity itself drives me forward.
Towards........
What?.



Once I cast a spell,
To remember, or
something, I forget.



A sunbeam.
A flower.

This minute.
This hour.



Gonzo makes what Gonzo gets.




Yet still,
Something....




must be said

Tairin
04-25-2018, 12:57 PM
Rushing, rushing
No place to go

Mitka
04-26-2018, 12:47 PM
It's You vs. You.
How?
I am one, not two.

Mitka
05-04-2018, 08:08 PM
I am unborn
I am undead
I am immortal
I am invulnerable

I was born
I shall die
I am slowly dying
I am fragile

Mitka
05-04-2018, 10:01 PM
A pile of poop
Sat in zazen in the middle of the lawn

The surrounding blades of grass were annoyed

They said Mr Poop
Your practice stinks

Myogan
06-05-2018, 03:51 AM
Something from my pediatric residency days

I look upon an empty room where someone was before,
I see the walls all stripped and bare an feel the pain once more.
What was it that Iíd hoped to find where people felt such gloom,
Itís not the child he is no more and does not need the room.
But through my tears I find a peace, a thought that comforts me,
Although a cure I could not give, from pain I know heís free.

Dedicated to Chase Gribbens

Gassho
Sat

Kokuu
06-05-2018, 04:36 PM
A pile of poop
Sat in zazen in the middle of the lawn

The surrounding blades of grass were annoyed

They said Mr Poop
Your practice stinks

Ha! I love this one.

Kokuu
06-05-2018, 04:37 PM
Yours is really moving, Myogan.

Deep bows
Kokuu
-sattoday/lah-

Hoseki
06-05-2018, 06:40 PM
Confidently Proselytizing to ghosts
tripping in fetters
illusion giving way to illusion

Hoseki
Sattoday

Frank Murray
08-04-2018, 10:41 AM
https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/20180804/2b59d0fd7eee73708c516fb36ff28c5a.jpg


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Shokai
08-06-2018, 12:27 AM
But through my tears I find a peace, a thought that comforts me,
Although a cure I could not give, from pain I know heís free.

Myogan;

Beautiful, Thank you for sharing this teaching

Gassho, Shokai

stlah

kirkmc
08-19-2018, 10:34 PM
Fly buzzing around
Mind flitting from thought to thought
Moonlight, long shadows.

Gassho,

Kirk

Troy
08-21-2018, 05:38 PM
In a boundless field
The morning sun rises
Field lilies ablaze in fire

Casting long shadows
Dew kissed feather reeds
Whisper the windís desire

On a broken ash tree
A merry meadowlark
Calls its cantata alone

Grandma rests in peace
On top the hillís crest
Her bed marked by stone

Although she is silent
I softly say to her
Hold on donít let me fall

Through the stillness
She whispers to me
The boundless field holds it all



Sat2day

Edit: Inspired by Kateís recent Alzheimer's post. It got thinking about my grandma.

Kokuu
10-22-2018, 12:17 PM
This poem, a sonnet, was written by the current British Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy, in commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the armistice of World War One, to be celebrated on 11 November of this year.

The Wound in Time

It is the wound in Time. The century’s tides,
chanting their bitter psalms, cannot heal it.
Not the war to end all wars; death’s birthing place;
the earth nursing its ticking metal eggs, hatching
new carnage. But how could you know, brave
as belief as you boarded the boats, singing?
The end of God in the poisonous, shrapneled air.
Poetry gargling its own blood. We sense it was love
you gave your world for; the town squares silent,
awaiting their cenotaphs. What happened next?
War. And after that? War. And now? War. War.
History might as well be water, chastising this shore;
for we learn nothing from your endless sacrifice.
Your faces drowning in the pages of the sea.

Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday-

Archpoet
10-23-2018, 06:07 PM
All along
The peaceful shore
Waves of thought
Roll in
Caught
Like breath
They, silent, simply
Roll back out
Again


Gassho,

Chris @archpoet

Richard1
12-20-2018, 10:21 AM
Rather than give the body relief
Give relief to the mind
When the mind is at peace, the body is not distressed.
If mine and body are both set free
One no longer needs
To escape this daily life.
Anon

Richard

Kokuu
12-20-2018, 11:37 AM
Rather than give the body relief
Give relief to the mind
When the mind is at peace, the body is not distressed.
If mine and body are both set free
One no longer needs
To escape this daily life.

gassho2

Nengei
12-28-2018, 05:22 AM
I Am Awake Now

O Cosmic Mudra
You are perfectly sized
And perfectly shaped
To accept the cold, wet nose
Of a German Shepherd,
Seeking my belly.

Gassho,
Joseph
Sat/LAH

You deserve to be happy.
You deserve to be loved.

Kokuu
12-28-2018, 11:29 AM
O Cosmic Mudra
You are perfectly sized
And perfectly shaped
To accept the cold, wet nose
Of a German Shepherd,
Seeking my belly.

That's lovely!

gassho2

Horin
03-28-2019, 12:23 PM
i love haikus and gave myself a little try:

"the way just a game,
nothing has to be done now,
perfect attainment"

and

"Sitting at night,
Grashoppers are clittering -
in and out are gone"


Gassho,
Ben

Stlah

Kokuu
03-28-2019, 01:49 PM
Hi Ben

Your second one has great images!

English Language Haiku (ELH) and other western forms do not have to be written in 5-7-5 format which refers to Japanese sound units which are shorter than syllables for the most part. Freeing ourself from this tends to give greater license to focus on images and seasonality.

Chrysanthemum is a good German language resource for haiku: http://chrysanthemum-haiku.net/media/Chrysanthemum_24.pdf

Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday-

Horin
03-28-2019, 01:51 PM
Hi Ben

Your second one has great images!

English Language Haiku (ELH) and other western forms do not have to be written in 5-7-5 format which refers to Japanese sound units which are shorter than syllables for the most part. Freeing ourself from this tends to give greater license to focus on images and seasonality.

Chrysanthemum is a good German language resource for haiku: http://chrysanthemum-haiku.net/media/Chrysanthemum_24.pdf

Gassho
Kokuu
-sattoday-Thank you very much, Kokuu. i will have a look!


Gassho,
Ben

Stlah

Tai Shi
04-04-2019, 12:59 PM
Trees, bear brown
Old leaves in Spring
Buds forstalled by cold
I sit and wonder why.

Gassho
Tai Shi

Tai Shi
04-04-2019, 01:03 PM
Rain in night
At 4:00 I'm sitting
In basment cold
My alter brief
With Buddha

More resistance
To my breath
No in, no out
I cannot let air
I cannot breathe

I stop to move
Diaphragm, belly, mouth
In air, out, breathe,
I am let loose, I am alive.

Tai Shi
Gassho

Tai Shi
04-08-2019, 01:08 AM
I Wrote Aftershock Poetry

More than one year
Gone into poetry
I stammer, "What's
Become of me?"
I divide the air
With words, wisps
To spare, what words?

Does one year
Three months
Disappear. Like
Clouds on Long's Peak
Morning Air, disappearing

More, more
Sun races into year,
Rain pattern more than year,
I did not drink
That day. The Stuff
Of brown paper bags.
In our day, brown
Bottles sufficed

Any clear plastic
Sack of wine.
Method brought substance,
Then came storm,
Dropping drops, then snow.
After rain, came more rain
Flood rose upon creeks
Turtle Creek, Skunk Creek.

Water into basins
Turned brown, until
Friends in Colorado knew.
Remembered I had been drinking
Then whole university knew;

New teacher in 1983,
One year of marriage
I hit the bars,
Five years, three
Teaching, two
Student, I hit
Bar, after bar,
Always pattern
What happened,
Why did I quit-- never; look
Back never, look back,
Turn to salt,

I turned to potassium?
My kidneys into Zen, into book
The time of great flood August 2014,
Calm Poetry in January 2016
All patterns broken in Japan
Levies gone, 400 homes starting
Nearly twenty thousand
Then more unthinkable,
Since 1945,

I remember bomb films,
Now homes, children, schools
Reactor on doorstep everywhere
Quick Flood, but never our home
Then it was 20-years-old,
Dryer than Japan, I do not
Drink, none each day
When I hear or see Tsunami
My daughter in Hokkaido
My Treeleaf near her first home
Chiba, Drop after precious drop,

Water, not wine, water
Bringing membranes human
Hair, bodies gone
Into numberless heap.
Precepts, this one's not easy
Life, yet, the one about truth,
That one's harder to keep,

I do not drink intoxicants,
Nor smoke, nor shoot,
Nor snort, nor pop pills,
But how? I do not lie?
Thousands out of homes
Water, dripping from our sky,

Where is end to meltdown?
Thousands of years, Where
Is end of rain?
Is this end near? We have turned
To sandbags now in South Dakota,
Again in 2019, no crops, farms
Gone broke, families cannot plant.

We gave our last bottle of wine
To our neighbor, she
Gave it to her boyfriend
Who knew me as fellow lost
Soul, so I surrendered.
With rain, there is no surrender
With quack, with flood?
No surrender.

I tell you now, I've
Stopped lying or being correct?
Or puffed up. It is the same.
Was it God realizing
It made no difference,

Water last night,
They opened Sioux Falls
Friday I-90 highway, April 7th,
2019.

Today I tell you this,
Water is the basis
Of everything, I know,
John the Baptist
Foretold my time of Zen
My time with Jesus Christ,
And just sitting, just sitting.

Mustard seeds could
Not predict death or death
Faith in faith predicted nothing,
The Buddha told us this,
Jesus yet affirmed this.
Where is truth? This I know.
I've mostly learned the truth
Enough to start, no one to kill,
Enough to start.

Tai Shi
sat/lah
Gassho

Shōnin Risa Bear
04-08-2019, 01:32 AM
Three deep breaths, palms together,
Here in her room, or elsewhere, she may
Rise and take. A habit she has formed,
Even as most of her ideas, ideals,
Even her so cherished findings, hard found,

Deducted, inducted, reasoned, debated, polished,
Even those most like faith, as taught her,
Even those most like science, measured, observed,
Peeled one by one: a human desert, she.

By three deep breaths, she centers somehow: how?
Reality itself a question she's no longer asking,
Eating and sleeping themselves provisional.
All she bothers to call caring is now to listen
To breath, room sounds, outside sounds, to
Her friends, their worries unpacked, their voices
Spending both hope and pain. She bows.



sat today
Gassho, doyu

Tai Shi
04-08-2019, 01:23 PM
Hi Doyu, I like your poem very much--you and I write confessional poetry with a difference from the actual school of poets in American Poetry. These poets, Sylvia Plath, Robert Lowell, Ann Sexton, others, ended many, if not most of their poetry in negative ways. All three of these poets committed suicide, yet they helped found a whole school of poetry called Confessional Poetry. There are others called Beat Poets, Beat Poetry for Beat Nick, bohemians of the 1950 s and early 1960 s. The most famous of these poets was Allen Ginsberg who helped found the Nayropa Institute near Boulder, Colorado. I earned my MFA creative writing at Colorado State University near Boulder, in the city of Fort Collins, Colorado while thinking I would have been suited to the Nayropa Institute because they offered the same degree and were a Zen enclave. Ginsberg and his friends gave up drugs to follow a different path, and even more so was Gary Snyder who still teaches, though Emeritus, at One of the University of California campuses near Sacramento, can't remember which one. There is a whole school of Zen poets. Look up City Lights Book Store in San Francisco. You and I are in good company with our poetry. Sometimes I try to bring into my poems landscape. I keep trying thinking it will give me more detail. I'm never sure how successful I am. Bill Tremblay, American poet, and my advisor, used to admonish me about rhythm.

Shōnin Risa Bear
04-08-2019, 03:27 PM
Very kind, Tai shi. I have traveled a lot but did most of my studies at the University of Oregon.

Gassho, Doyu
sat today/LAH

Kokuu
04-08-2019, 05:32 PM
Beautiful, Doyū!

gassho2

Tai Shi
04-08-2019, 05:44 PM
I am so happy to be part of Treeleaf with friends and it has made a big difference in my life and I hope for others!


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Kokuu
04-08-2019, 05:45 PM
Even in this decaying body
the brightness of ten thousand things;
carrion crow, an oak tree in bud,
crab shells left behind by the tide.

Dog violets mix with celandines
on the forest floor,
clouds pass overhead,
gathering sun.

From the hour of our birth,
no moment is the same,
yet each contains all things,
how can any of us ever be alone?

One foot in front of the other,
waves break on the shore,
we follow our ancestors
as breath follows breath.

Lighting incense to Amida Buddha,
I empty my bowl
and already find it
full of blossom.

Shōnin Risa Bear
04-08-2019, 06:58 PM
Kokuu, thank you for this. _()_

gassho, doyu
sat today/lah

Tai Shi
04-09-2019, 10:52 AM
For my friend Kokuu
Morning Glories Will Come

Time after time
We reach for sunshine,
Reaching from our beds
Of fertile soil where gardens
Grew roses, now The Glory
Of toil as chariot rides
Across our sky.

We lose nothing
In colorful gold days
Swept clean from clouds.
Why bother our bowed heads
Of yellow, green, red
To stem our winter's sleep?

Locked away our pockets empty,
No seed? Gardener reaches
Into tiny packets,
Paper thin pouches
Around crowns of earth.

Our women and men,
Lingering long in caves,
Still wakeful on walls,
Sentient beings
In books. Finding wisdom,

We reach lovingly
For packets of sun. Our seeds
bring forth deliverance
Of desire. Our graves are not
Dug as lives rejoice, given over
To delight of air,

Sunshine our mindfulness,
Into openings where rain showers
Bring water, bower of delight,
Now tiny blossoms sprout, bloom

Another day rich. We reach for sky,
Living things given to clouds
bursting water, sprouting seeds,
Without souls, We reach again,

Buddhas touch earth.
Now Sacred roots. This is spring.
Down, down, stems of cells,
Biology of wakefulness now alive.
Above is the Morning Star,

For others our earthly ocean
Of air is bright with eternal
Juno's energy, one after one
Cells of Earth's aquarium drop

Of dew point to Earth, reversing
Our Compasses pointing north,
For joyful sun rays give blooms.
Energy renews another spring.

Living seeds, we sing as our eyes
Close, resting notes of poetry
Simple Haikus, form natural,
Broken five notes sung to seven,

Dreaming generations
Such as Solomon
Never knew, so arrayed
Our gold is gone; new of gold
So old my song.

We are shown life every day,
While Venus dawns below Polaris,
New again, We find happiness,
Bright Sun above our morning,
We wake to full days,

Realization of our sun,
Like this morning star,
Our Air is never dry, full sun
Sweeps Starry Night away,

I wake to dawn, my work again
Poetry with bowed head,
Now I chop wood,
Now I carry water.
Now I fetch the Sun.

Gassho.
Tai Shi
sat

Teiro
06-01-2019, 06:46 AM
Luke

Golden morning
Caught in a spider’s web
As the damp earth
Exhales

A sudden movement!
Caught in the corner of the eye
Ears prick, exited yelp
Paws barely touch
In the joy of the run

Gassho
Teiro

Sat

Shōnin Risa Bear
06-01-2019, 01:37 PM
t h e re a r e r o o m s

There are rooms in a life that may sometimes
Have someone in them; but they are guests there.
Even when one most loves, one may find,
Really, a solitude that begins at this wall,
Ends at that wall; the rest is not entirely ours.

As years turn and suns, moons and stars
Rise up and fall like rain by every window
Even one's hands will shrivel soon enough

Right at the ends of one's arms, as hands
Of strangers. But to fret at this discovery
Of emptiness arrived at and emptiness
Made clear by moon's dance with water,
Sun's dance with dust, by endings never sought

In even that one room that is one's own, is
Not worthy of even that we call our life.

All our guests deserve from us restraint.

Little enough we can offer them as it is;
In a short while each vacates each room,
Feeling for the light switch as each goes.
Evening comes. Do not grieve the door.


gassho
doyu sat today

Getchi
06-06-2019, 11:59 PM
Thank you all :bow:

One day, I was in
Two minds, stay or
Sit?
Today i did neither, tomorrow
- ill do it all.
Neither gain nor loss,
Here nor There
Heaven and Hell
split
Through each other
we fell.



Gassho.


GEoff.
LaH / SatToday.

Tai Shi
08-06-2019, 09:58 AM
Eating Genjokoan

Dropping pain to breath
Breathe in our master Dogen
All in Genjokoan yet in cooking
Public, private, drop away
More hungry ghost,
Les is more human,
Nirvana, here before me food,
Limited by tip of stomach
Growl; toast, juice, fruit,
Can pain drop away?
Not likely sinner ghoul!
No time is ancient
Twenty minutes until 1185
Came to pass in cooking bowl,
Five minutes now, now,
With no pain, pain again,
Hold on more, pain comes
I eat, I let go, cannot sit
In this easy chair, breathe
Breakfast I may eat, my only
Desire, oatmeal, after reading
Dogen this moment,
Mindfully hurting
Iced myself down, so I
May sit with steaming bowl
My gratitude in bowl of food,
From reclining chair
To hardwood table
Downing every morsel.

Tai Shi
Sat/lah
Gassho


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Tai Shi
02-01-2020, 01:59 PM
Sitting Together

You sat today--
Your whole life in one decade--
Each day I'm fragile, I'm sixty-eight,
Light years old--farms surround,
Our Rocky Mountains gone, yearning
At sixty-four, you find my weaknesses,
Zen becomes your lesson, my sight,
My Horrible Satori July 22nd, 1987 Dry,
No bottle; yet January 7th, 1980 we
Talked, our only game, now quiet.
Yes, you taught me Zen formations,
Marjorie, you were Frightened child,
I became my poetry, contracts of teaching
Damned wine into darkness,
Then police drug bust, they stormed;
While I drank daily because I opened
My clarity. You surprised me with joy,
Our pools of old water smelled
Until I declined another drink,
Better for books, for our four-year-old
Girl child, days of liquid mindfulness
We declined this fate, we created,
This child; I walked like ball of string
With no shield or sword of growth,
Evergreens, daughter planted pine,
Twenty-six years ago, now she's thirty,
With spontaneity, emptiness filling us
Still my poetry, my Loneliness--
Cave where you populated us
With her--daughter of dreams
March 27th, 1989 this baby
Born despite our reprise, first kiss,
Rose gradually in silence,
You said at last this important act
Dispelled my illusions, imparting
Time we did not touch or press
After 2009 when bodies did not rise,
From marriage, we became our stories,
In Bach's Art of Fugue, your last
Let It Be, an example, sitting face
To face, joined four decades
In silence. Now we breathe,
This January 7th, 2020.

Tai Shi
sat/ lah
Gassho

Shōnin Risa Bear
02-01-2020, 04:48 PM
To bring another generation
Such as Solomon
Never knew, so arrayed
Our gold is gone
Is gone until generation
New, new of gold

is outstanding, by the way.

gassho
doyu sat today