Poetry Scroll II

Standing at the edge, clarity.
Sound and light overwhelm,
Sun tastes salt,
Bones echo thunder
And the shriek of white wings.
There is no past and no future-
let go judging.
Pain stinging deep, to the core,
deafening.
But still, this very moment.
Another edge-now softer, fresh.
Blackness left behind by the moon, the nearby shore obscured.
But overhead, the ten thousand stars
Throw themselves down and pierce the air off silent water,
Revealing, finally, the center.

--Deborah Vigeland

O n Retreat

The silence here rings
Replete with all creation
Who am I? Just sound.

--Jean Blucher

For my friend it is rage,
Coming in waves,
Tightening the jaw and the wrists;
Sometimes desire flaming the body.
Dark heat it is for me,
Grief bending me
In its fierce contraction,
The chest crushed with longing.
Thoughts which rise and
Spread quick branches.
We all have these, and
The mind cramped against itself.
Light sometimes flowing,
A taste like water, a taste like milk,
And everything tender:
In the kitchen
The leaves of butter lettuce
Bright like a face.

--Sarah Webb

I cannot see the rainbow
for I am blind.
Facing a white wall, I see clearly.
I speak with words and
am not understood.
Sitting quietly, my soul
speaks for me.
I am deaf to the cries
of those in pain.
In silence, I hear all.
I cannot touch
the world around me.
With hands clasped,
I am one with all creation.

--Joe Camperson

looking out my window pane
drops of water from the rain
flock of birds fly into the tree
a fly dives into the window to be free
a child's voice screams
beckoning her mother to her whims
look and then i see
the one who made all beauty be

--Helen Cortes

this flat rock,
peeking just above the water,
just so,
one leap
(of a thousand miles)
away.
waiting, perhaps, through
all time
for this perfect moment:
the perfect place
to sit
my wannabebuddhabutt
in the vast
canadian silence.
the water, gently
murmurs approval.
the pines, spruce & fir
whisper
evergreen encouragement.
the empty sky, laughing silently,
waiting...
maybe
the haunting cry
of the loon,
or not.

-- Rex Robertson

That Cat

graycat buddha
rakes
the litterbox sand
just so.
but i would
rather
contemplate
Ryoan-ji...

--Rex Robertson

i sit
because gautama did
because i like the perspective
i sit to learn something
because i'm bored
because they hung jesus
on a tree
because i'm a dreamer
i sit because
i don't know what else to do
because bodhidharma
left for the east,
& ruben left for the west
i sit
because... i forget
i sit for the hell of it.
i sit to wake up
i sit
just because.

i sit
to remember
because i repeat myself
because the bodhisattvas vowed
i sit because the 10,000 things
because the wonder
the beauty
& the horror
i sit
so i don't pound
my head
against the wall
i sit
because i'm haunted
by that holiest of ghosts
& the buddha's
ghost of a smile
i sit because
of what they didn't teach me
& because
everything i know
is wrong.

i sit
because the clear light
& candlelight
because i'm dying
i sit for those who can't or won't
to keep my head
from getting
stuck upmyass
i sit, turning karma into dharma
because maybe isaac of luria
was maybe correct?
& the gospel of thomas
I sit because the gunyunggalung
rumi's songs & rabia's prayer,
& four quartets

i sit
to embody the buddha nature
because i talk too much
i sit to inform my being
i sit,
tangled in indra's net
i sit to bark at the moon
i sit to grin & bear it
i sit because my house is on fire
i sit because
love is what you do,
not what you feel.

V

i sit,
ladling clear water
from the depths of the flame
& riding my horse
along the edge of a sword
i sit
because mind & body
are not two
& because i'm not
in my right mind
because
i may never hear surf music again
i sit
because i repeat myself

VI

i sit
because i have been here
before
& will be again
& again
& because there is only
this moment

VII

i sit because
i don't know when to stop
& because
i could go on forever...

VIII

little dog piss
on big sky mind

--Rex Robertson