Page 8

Quest

I’m tired of this quest
for enlightenment, this vain
attempt to peep
behind the veil of death to
see things as they really are.

I will dig a hole
in the turf for my head, pat
the soil down firmly
over my chin, make the earth
fit snugly around my neck,

then plant hands flat so
white roots can snake down to find
moisture for my legs
once they are hoisted upright,
soles exposed to the warm sun.

Green shoots will sprout from
nodes at ankle and knee and
grow to branch and leaf.
Proud herons will sit silent
and watchful high in my tops.

Squirrels will scamper
up and down over history
carved by lovers.
An ageing monk will sit in
meditation in my shade.

Imagine

Was it a good flight?
I imagine so.
Why do you say imagine?
I don’t really believe you can fill a metal plane
with people and bags, lift it into the air, float it
over the ocean and drop it down in another
continent. So I always think I imagine it.
Canada must be a wonderful country. Will you go again?
I imagine so. But I’m not sure other countries
exist when I am not actually in them.
What about on this trip, were you real?
I imagine so.

Flag

Monk sitting lotus
flares up for a few minutes
then dies down.

News of the immolation
flares up for a few hours
then dies down.

In a gentle breeze
flags flutter over
government building.

Antidote

So, I have a choice,
which mind to apply to each
new situation,

clinging or bright mind.
One sees separateness and
permanence, one sees

interconnections
and constant changes in a
flowing universe.

One focusses on self,
ego, gain, loss - constant causes
of all suffering,

while the other knows
the ten thousand things are just
images in mind.

Stubborn ignorance
keeps bright mind hidden from view
so clinging mind prevails.

Seeing there is a choice
is a partial antidote
to small ignorance.

Persisting

persisting thoughts build
castles in the air with me
defending the walls

Fret

Undifferentiated
universe, no ten thousand
things and no separate selves
fretting between birth and death.