Saturday, May 21, 2011

Essence

we sometimes find ourselves
in the the craggy places in life
there is no warmth
the sun always seems to be obscured by clouds
as the dampness sets in
we realize our place in the cosmos
good and bad
right and wrong
these are merely constructs
if we attach to our situation
we lose ourselves in the process
it is this subtle understanding
that blocks the path
to our true selves
whether our situation is good
or our situation is bad
has nothing to do with our lives.
we must see the truth
in this very moment
and transcendence all of our thinking
to arrive at the present
and say hello
to our true selves

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

crazy



a man took off
all of his clothes
then went
running down the street.
one mouth said,
‘crazy!’
another mouth said,
‘crazy!’

but, you are crazy,
I am not crazy.

a tree penetrates
the center of the sun,
while the stone boy
eats the brilliant moon.

who repaired
the sun and the moon?
in a nest,
baby birds
cheep
cheep
cheep


only for
their mother’s mouth.

S.S.
November 13, 1975

waiting



the cat
only waits
at the mouse hole,
a crying boy
only calls
for his mother.
originally
there is nothing,
so why
does the western wind
shake the eastern forest?
the sun
is setting
over the southern mountain.

S.S.
November 12, 1975

dreaming



a dream—is a non-dream,
a non-dream—is a dream.
who has made dream?
who has made non-dream?
if one mind is clear;
infinite time is manifest.
the sun shines everywhere,
illuminating and bright without end.

S.S.
June 17, 1975

Sunday, May 8, 2011

inclement weather

dense fog fills the valleys.
the grey cold creeps into my bones.
mossy peaks jut out of clouds,
their outlines a blur—
out of focus and
stopped in time;
they float on the horizon.
my mind is a mess—
just like
the confusing mist.
floating just where
I want clarity—
hiding it from my sight
I strain to see,
with all my might—
when I stop
and just relax—
out of the corner
of my eye.
a fleeting glimpse
tells me
it will all be
all right!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

for sŏnsa–nim


grey beard
soft as white clouds
his clear eyes manifest
in the azure blue sky
the old man said;
‘soft is better,
like yielding water
wears at the granite.”
I will meet you
in ten thousand years,
when spring comes
snow melts
and water
flows to the ocean.