Christmas trees for religious harmony

Jogye Order Administrative Leader Jaseung, right rear, and General Secretary of the National Council of Churches in Korea Kim Young-joo, second right rear, look around Jogye Temple with monks and children from the temple’s care facility for disabled children after lighting Christmas trees in front of Iljumun, the One Pillar Gate, on Dec. 20.

This marks the first time that Christmas trees were lit in the chief temple of the Jogye Order of Korean Buddhism, which symbolizes reconciliation and harmony between Buddhism and Protestant Christianity in South Korea.

(Photo by Shin So-young)

Kathy's Song

Kathy Daul (1957-2008) at a vigil for her fallen son Andrew, an Iraqi Vet who gave his life for our freedom.

I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls


And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies


My mind's distracted and defused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day


And this song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme


And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you


And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I


I used to sing this to Kathy when it was cold and rainy out and we were sitting in her station wagon coming back from lunch.

Israel "IZ" Kaʻanoʻi Kamakawiwo Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I heard this song on my commute this week to work on NPR and was surprised I had never heard this beautiful version before, so for those not familar with Israel IZ I post this to share a unique discovery. Please enjoy and seek out more from this man with the bless'd voice.

Israel "IZ" Kaʻanoʻi Kamakawiwoʻ; May 20, 1959 – June 26, 1997) was a Hawaiian musician. He became famous outside Hawaii when his album Facing Future was released in 1993. His medley of "Over the Rainbow" and "What a Wonderful World" was subsequently featured in several films, television programs, and commercials. Through his ukulele playing and incorporation of other genres (such as jazz and reggae), Kamakawiwoʻole remains one of the major influences in Hawaiian music over the last 15 years.

Rumi - Only Breath

	Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu,
	Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion
	or cultural system. I am not from the East
	or the West, not out of the ocean or up
	from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
	composed of elements at all. I do not exist,
	am not an entity in this world or the next,
	did not descend from Adam or Eve or any
	origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
	of the traceless. Neither body or soul.
	I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
	worlds as one and that one call to and know,
	first, last, outer, inner, only that
	breath breathing human being.

The Stolen Child (An Linbh goidte)

William Butler Yeats

Poem performed by The Waterboys

WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

Church Not Made With Hands

Eaglais made Gan Le Lámha

bye bye shadowlands
the term is over
and all the holidays have begun
now she walks on fresh fields
her tracks are on the land
she is everywhere and noplace
when its dark and evening falls
she moves among men
they would seek to have her
as a prize
but she is in the shadows
ocean and the sand
she is everywhere and noplace
her church not made with hands
not contained by man
she dancing high as clouds
faster than the arrow
straight as any crow that flies
across great seas she travels
up through rising lands
she is everywhere and noplace
her church not made with hands
isn't that a pretty sun
setting in a pretty sky?
will we stay and watch it darken
the church not made with hands
not contained by man
that precious place
unmade
by man

for p’arang iii

you and I are

just breath-breathing human beings,

lowering our heads

below the plane

occupied by our feet,

upside down

and topsy-turvy are

the realm of opening and life.

the sacred unfolds

within your shining eyes tonight.

reflection is within

the ticking of the clock on the wall.

love–

is a manifestation of our

ability to just let go,

letting go–

is a demonstration of

our will to be free.

I–

 which has never existed,

loves you–

that I will never know,

within this appearance,

I can only aspire

to touch your heart

and kiss your forehead

and know

we have never

ever

been

apart..........

It is with a discerning heart

It is with a discerning heart

And a compassion

That comes from

The depths of my soul,

That I come to you

With my spirit exposed

And my grace extends

From the inner

Workings of your heart

To be present

Is to be alive,

To be absorbed

So completely

In the action

That any idea

Of self and other

Never rose

Into cosmic awareness.

This is you

And this is me

And this is we

For you and I

Are not different.

For you and I

Are never the same.

It is just

That he and she

Became

All that I see.

perhaps there are moments,

perhaps there are moments,

which each of us realize

that our whole life

is hanging in the balance–

of a simple glance–

or a look–

that we have been

patiently waiting for

our entire lives.

it is with this solemn grace

and the virtue of ten thousand distractions

that we can see through

to the core

of all human emotion,

and when we realize

that it is not just for our own

momentary satisfaction

and that an entire cosmos has opened up

that was hidden previously

from our purview.

it is the sanctity of the pure heart

and the vow passed from two

waiting lips–

this life is not mine

I can not do with it

what I want.

a Sufi student

Image via Wikipedia

a Sufi student came to stay a while

the meditation would do him good.

we talked of Buddhism and of Zen,

spoke of Rumi and Kabir.

we talked of the path the Daoist takes

and the one the Moslem’s tread.

with all the stops along the way

this journey seems sometimes long.

he was told of secrets

known only to a Sufi master,

to which I could only respond;

“the only secret is, there is no secret

 and nothing left to find.”

he argued; “only a chosen few,

have the secret truth revealed.”

this idea a misguided interpretation

the Mevlana had also heard that lie,

I handed him a book of Rumi poems

a single tear welled in his eye.

he read that book both day and night,

and talked of nothing else.

all this teaching so wide and clear

but these poems remained another’s words.

the secret hidden from his grasp,

he will never find what he seeks.

desire brought him to stay with me,

that same desire drove him away.

we embraced before his journey south

I was sad to see him go.

the only thing we’ve heard of since;

someone defiled his Quran.

January 8, 1998

La Habra, CA

winter into spring

Image via Wikipedia

grey sky and cold wind.

leaves and branches

dance in the rain.

tall pine trees

wave their furry arms.

this somber mood—

a reflection of wind

rustling through the trees.

red clay tile roof

shiny from the rains.

spring blossoms fall to the ground—

a lone starling chirping

from some hidden nest.

rain drops splash

on the surface of the pool—

while the spring blossoms

float in patterns

directed by the wind.

life follows this cycle of events.

winter becomes spring,

spring becomes summer,

summer into autumn,

to begin the cycle again.

breathing and feeling

the cool wind against my face—

time and place are no longer separate.

dawn

Image via Wikipedia

the sun reflects beneath

scattered cirrus clouds.

fingers of pink and grey light

radiate like a spoke

from the source.

early mornings are a wonder

before the world has awaken.

quiet and still,

peaceful and alive.

the radiance penetrates the soul

and moves me towards a door.

calm and serene

no movement

besides the breath

within this space

the universe unfolds

its mystery.

January 2, 1998

Haean Sŏnwŏn

wooden idols?

a wooden Buddha sits quietly on the altar

reminding the sangha to be patient and diligent

a wooden Virgin Mary stands behind the pulpit

reminding the parishioners to be compassionate and pure

a wooden Cross graces the wall above the podium

reminding the congregation

of the great sacrifice and suffering.

some would say there is a difference,

that images of people are pagan idols.

some would say they are all only wooden images

and ultimately they are the same.

the same or different, this is the dilemma,

don’t get trapped, your thinking will kill you.

neither of these are correct

pay attention, wake up

Buddha and the Virgin Mary are smiling

the wooden cross has two perpendicular lines.

how may I help you, today?

December 18, 1996

Hae An Soen Won

Poem for Kathy Daul

poem for K. D.

vast blue cloudless winter sky

empty and void this morning,

true nature revealed.

your azure blue eyes are sometimes like this.

some mornings the fog is very thick and cold.

other mornings the low grey clouds hang dense and dark;

but, the sky is always the same.

just like this true nature is always there,

sometimes manifest—sometimes obscure.

how silly to chase our problems and ideas,

are they not just clouds that have appeared by themselves

and will disappear with no intervention?

how many mornings—forgetting the sky?

how many times—ignoring true nature?

the blue mountains are looming in the distance.

somehow  laughing at our frailty

their message is clear.

hurry up!

but, be gentle along the way.

January 11, 1996

Beach Blvd.—Huntington Beach, CA

Kathy Daul

every shining thing

“inside this box
is a gold chain and pendant
which says Buddha in Chinese,
it is there to remind
you of your true-self
always and everywhere.”
a cool breeze is in the air,
birds begin to fly south.
flowers of spring beginning to recede.
a smile is on my face.
what a miracle—breathing each moment.
38 years have passed before today.
autumn is approaching,
bodies grow old and weary,
but our true self is constant and pure.
the sky is grey in the morning,
crickets chirping every evening.
Zen Master Lin Chi once said;
“gold is a very precious thing,
but if gold dust gets in your eyes
it clouds the vision.”

October 10, 1995
Happy Birthday Kathy

flight 851

kwan-se-um-bosal,

kwan-se-um-bosal,

kwan-se-um-bosal.

the 737 shakes and rattles

breaking ground at dawn.

morning mist and fog

obscures the sometimes

sharp edge at the horizon.

moments like these

bring me face to face

with my own mortality.

yesterday’s despair and loneliness

give way to joyful anticipation.

the grey earth and blue sky

meet at this fuzzy

pink and red juncture.

leaving dallas behind

the sun rises in the east,

as popping ears

constantly change the pitch

of the droning engines

and the hiss

of the air conditioned wind.

January 20, 1996

Over Central Texas

subtle form

a subtle form which defies explanation.

there is a place that we each can go,

a shelter beyond the mundane existence

that seems to rule our lives.

it is the existence of eternity,

it is the face of infinity

that we fear.

yet this infinite presence

is with us each moment

and with each breath that we take.

I can see it in the shadows

of the large eucalyptus trees,

and I can hear it in the echo

of the albatross' song,

I can feel it in the warmth of the

mid-day sun against my skin,

it is timeless,

it is breathless,

it is beyond thought

and beyond understanding.

and yet you know

of what I speak

is true

and tangible

in this world of great illusion.

it is the name

of the nameless,

and the face

of the faceless.

and yet our lives

spring forth from it

every second that we breathe.

I can't define it,

or you or me

in the quantum physics

of a universe gone mad,

and yet I am simple

and present

and beyond any concept

that I had a moment ago.

but concepts are many

and our ideas become rampant,

it is in the quiet time of this peace

that overcomes me like a wave,

I don't ask for it,

I only know of it

I can't say it

or know it

or hold it in my hands.

but I know full well

with my entire existence,

that what I speak of exists

in a tangible way.

there is doubt

and there is belief

but what I have is faith

beyond measure.

it is borne on the wings

of a truth built on now.

and in this now

lies the entire cosmos

laid bare for all of us to see.

it is here

and not someplace else

that we come to find ourselves.

and in that instant

that we find it

then we know who we are,

and our loved ones

and our cherished ones

are safe

and protected from harm.

earth

the earth brings life

and grounds us within

her loving embrace

and bears her fruit

for all to share in abundance.

the wind carries aloft

on the breezes of spring

the seeds of existence

and the birds of the air.

the fire of our passion

and the fire of heat

gives life and expression

to our simple human existence.

the water of this world

is the universal solvent

and washes away both

the soiled and misguided intent.

the elements of life

are actually all one

it is merely our thoughts

that separate them into pieces

that life presented whole.

world union

we are in the midst

of a world in union

and the separation of thought.

do we see an image,

or do we exist in the moment?

there is no outside

nor is there a tangible inside,

yet we make this

and it has somehow

come to exist

as our world of thoughts.

there is a dance

in which we circle

round and round

till we come back

to the place

where we began.

humanity is the essence

running through all

of our veins,

so why call others by a name?

if we must

use a name,

just call you me;

and know that

I am you.

love is like the

transcendent blue sky,

ideas are merely

clouds forming

and dissipating

in the clear azure sky.

the sky is always present

and never denies

the clouds from forming,

yet when the clouds must leave

the sky is never holds on.

be the sky

and let the misty places pass

of their own volition.

be as the unborn essence

of your original existence

within the timeless grace

of the dance.

perfection

there are moments

when life seems so perfect

and life is grand and wide

and for all of eternity

there is this kiss

on our cheek

that lets us know

that love is the place

of sanctity and grace.

it is within your eyes

that the universe

in its vast transparency

is allowed to yield

its only bless’d treasure.

Lala

a finger pointing at the moon.

Kashmiri Poetess Lala who lived in the 14^th Century:

about enlightenment and her direction she said;

in this state there is no Shiva,

nor any holy union.

only a somewhat something moving

dreamlike on a fading road.

when asked about sacred practices she said;

there are those sleeping who are awake,

and others awake who are sound asleep.

some of those bathing in the sacred pools

will never get clean.

and there are others

doing household chores

what are free from any action.

Enlightenment absorbs this universe of qualities

when that merging occurs, there is nothing

but God. This is the only doctrine.

there is no word for it, no mind

to understand it with, no categories

of transcendence or non-transcendence,

no vow of silence, no mystical attitude.

there is no Shiva and no Shakti

in enlightenment, and if there is something that remains,

that whatever it is

is the only teaching.

version translations by Coleman Barks