Peace

Peace

The seed sown
in arid soil,
which sprouts and grows.
Roots spread,
Releasing fertility
Into the earth.
The seedling grows,
And little tended,
Bears ripened fruit.
The fruit falls and,
Finding now fertile soil
Grows tall and strong -
A shelter for all who pass.
And in finding shelter,
They are inspired
To sow the seed
In their own arid ground.

I will speak,
I will sow,
I will nourish,
It will grow,
It will spread,
We will know.

(copyright 2007)

Her Faith

her faith,
not sleeve-worn
was threadbare
from use -
aged with time and trials
like her tender, frail face.
patterns of her life,
trailed across both -
etching detail
some subtle,
some not so.
her faith -
once a cloak she bore
sometimes struggling
under its weight.
and heat.
now a drifting feather
on the breeze -
a filmy, translucent veil -
so beautiful in the sunlight,
like her tender, frail face.

(Copyright 2007)

Joy

Joy

Creeping, creeping up on me
Waiting in the light to spring
The little imp, mischievous sprite
Dancing, waiting in the light,
Hoping that I'll turn around,
Jumping, jumping up and down,
Bubbling over with her glee
Until she finally springs on me.

(Copyright 2007)

Little Bean

And here's a poem i wrote last month for a friend who found out last week she and her partner are pregnant after trying for quite a while:

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Little Bean (copyright 2010)

Little bean,

i wonder what awaits you.

There in love's embrace,

You grow.

And with you, the future-

Spiraling out,

Changing lives,

Like ripples on water.

Hope lies in your heartbeat,

Joy lies in your awakening.

Your mothers' eyes are shining

With visions of what may come.

In this life,

May compassion guide your path.

May love cushion your steps.

May wisdom be your constant companion.

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Mother's Day

In honor of Mother's Day coming up here in the US, i wanted to share some things i've written lately about motherhood, children, babies, etc.

In my neighborhood - it seems as if all one must do to become pregnant around here is drink the water. Seriously - i think there are maybe 20 babies who have been born within four blocks of my home over the past 18 months, and i can think of at least seven more due this year.

Talking with one neighbor recently who was faced with having to enter an establishment where the servers were very scantily clad, while she was at her eighth month of pregnancy, i shared this:

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In my spiritual practice, part of the meditation we do is cultivating gratitude for our mother.

i've thought a lot about ALL of what a mother does - especially when they really love their child - to care for a child throughout their lifetime (but especially at the beginning). And, as much as i can think, i still don't know the half of it. It is one of the most unselfish, compassionate, loving things you can do in this world, and a truly special role.
In some traditions, they say that when you mother one being, it is as if you are mothering the whole universe - as if you are carrying every being in the universe inside you, nurturing every being in the universe. By nurturing your child, the path they tread, which is interconnected with every other being in the universe in some way, will be kinder, fuller, more compassionate. In that way, you are literally sending love and compassion out into the world that may last, be passed on, and amplify for generations.

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Thank You, Squirrel

Dharma lessons come from many unexpected places, people, and things in life. Many of mine frequently are sourced from my dogs (of which there are five, which means their teachings are frequent and plentiful). Today started with one from them about impermanence, with the help of a tiny friend.

It was a quiet morning for me. I was sitting peacefully, listening to a Dharma talk online (LamRim Radio channel on iTunes), and working on my computer when I heard my dogs scurrying around on the patio. One of their favorite past times is tormenting squirrels travelling across the top of my privacy fence from the front yard to the back yard. Normally, the sequence goes as so:

• Squirrel looks around thoroughly for dogs from behind the driveway gate.
• Squirrel cautiously steps out past the driveway gate onto the fence along the side of my patio.
• Squirrel and dogs spot each other at the same time.
• Dogs leap up from the deck and run headlong down the stairs, and at the fence.
• Squirrel realizes the peril and runs like hell for the tree at the back of the fence.
• Dogs leap and "just" miss the squirrel's tail as it safely vaults into the comforting branches of the tree.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

This is frequently accompanied by the chorus of me saying:

"go squirrel. go squirrel! GO SQUIRREL!! GO SQUIRREL!!!!"

with increasing frequency and volume until the little critter makes it to safety. I am positive that my neighbors figured out long ago that I have lost at least one of my marbles.

This morning, as I ran out to see if the squirrel made it, I found the dogs running from the corner, across the patio, and under the deck. The furry creature had fallen, and was desperately trying to escape the elated pups as they were equally desperately trying to catch her.

The dogs won. As I made it through the deck, stairs, and patio in record time (might as well have flown - I seriously have no recollection of it), my largest furchild got ahold of the squirrel's tail and grabbed the little gal by the middle. I got him to drop her just in time for one of the smaller ones to jump in and deliver what was surely the deadly blow. Scooping the squirrel up (still breathing and obviously dying), I wrapped her in a towel and assessed the damage. It was too late. I held her until she died.

Her eyes glazed to the sound of chanted mantras. Her her breathing slowed, then stopped. Blood leaked from her mouth, and I knew she was gone. I held her for a little longer, still chanting, and then headed out back to bury her.

I chanted as I dug, crying for the little squirrel. I thought about her life and her death, and the point where the two met.

Then it hit me.

Karma is surely an amazing thing. Here this squirrel was, at this time and place, dying not under the wheels of a car, nor in torment by a feline counterpart, but cradled in the hands of a fumbling, fledgling, but committed, Buddhist. Her last breaths, her last moments, were allowed to pass peacefully to the chanting of mantras. I finished the hole, chanting "Om Mani Padme Hum", and held her tiny body in my hands (ok, in a towel in my hands). I lit incense and prayed for her to be reborn in the human realm, and placed her in the hole. I asked her to please find her way to a human rebirth as I chanted, and if she wanted, one where we would meet again. I think maybe we will.

I looked at the shadow of a butterfly behind me as I finished, and thought about how truly ephemeral everything is. In the blink of an eye, it all changes. Nothing is constant, solid, what it seems to be. The squirrel's life ended. The butterfly's life will end. As, someday, will mine.

How to Build a "Bomb"

I wrote this when considering the conditions and fate of the inmates at Guantanamo - and what their release (if it ever happens) may mean for the rest of the world.

How to Build a "Bomb"

Taken
From a field,
Hoe in hand.
I worked,
Rarely praying.
There was no time.
But I prayed for life
For sons
For hope of education,
Food, shelter, and happiness,
For my children
And their children.
In a dark room now,
There is only time
For prayer
And questions.
and pain.
Before
Work, family, God, sleep.
Now,
Pain.
I know nothing.
Tell me anything
I will confess it.
I pray,
I pray for sun,
I pray for hope,
I pray
For revenge.