Who waits for the master
To appear?
Are they near?
Still here-in
But where?
Something in the air
All around
In every sound
If you see a Buddha on the road-
Kill them!
If you serve your Lord, as a servant
Do a service-
Be bold!
Enlightenment is not only for a few
The master looks out through you
Awareness itself is divine
Looking out through your eyes
No freedom for all |
Until mammals are free from |
Reptilian brain |
Humidity fries |
Setting in before sun sets |
Humility mine |
The Yellow Emperor went wandering
To the north of the Red Water
To the Kwan Lun mountain. He looked around
Over the edge of the world. On the way home
He lost his night-colored pearl
He sent out Science to seek his pearl, and got nothing
He sent out Analysis to look for his pearl, and got nothing
He sent out Logic to seek his pearl, and got nothing
Then he asked Nothingness, and Nothingness had it!
The Yellow Emperor said:
“Strange indeed: Nothingness
Who was not sent
Who did not work to find it
Had the night-colored pearl!”
Why do rulers still underestimate
Sly jesters on their silly stage
Wit takes much intelligence
Court provides reconnaissance
Joke makers spy real news of the day
My best move today
Is to align with nature
And to wait and see
Those who used to be the night-watchmen
Now outcast and forgotten
In a world of daytime dreams
And of ladders of hierarchy
They struggle to conform
Or remain outside the social norm
Holding to themselves their insights
From the depths of the quiet night
Waiting to be of service again
When some finally break through they are once again regarded by their fellow man
But until then they still keep guard
Not for king or queen but for themselves as lord
Of their own kingdoms, their silent keeps
While serfs and merchants get their sleep
To rise again and play worldly games
And get their phantom, empty gains
But these nocturnal sentinels need no gems
Yet as they selflessly keep watch who watches them?
…Tell me please, who watches the night-watchmen?
True independence |
Means my nonconformity |
We need dissidents |
Sometimes he waits beside the water’s edge
While thoughts of happier times
Drift on by
And he says goodbye
Tosses them on the pile
Then lights on fire
The last of a past
That is left behind
Before he dies
He hopes to gather
Enough fragments
Of days content
To like this again say
A farewell to them
The hope softens
For nostalgia’s blossom
Instead of more regrets
Of a bandaged broken man
Repaired by the hands
Of those around him
Family and friends
If they would only see
Just how grave is he
Teetering by this edge
Wondering how to be on the ground
Instead of drifting off the ledge
And from the current drown
A liquid state
No solid place
To plant his feet
No maker to meet
Just a manifestation
An incarnation
Stuck in incarceration
Will you bring carnations
To his memorial
Or a lotus that grew from the mud
Like he did among
False accusations slung
These last days will soon be marked
If he cannot rise again from the dark
Sometimes he stands among the trees
And wonders if they really see
Him better than other beings
He watches as leaves
Rustle in the breeze
Hopes of better findings
Bend around horizon
Beneath the belt of Orion
If there will soon be chance
For a wallflower to again dance
He will not just wait
His own meaning he will name
As one half of twin flame
One last thought from him
Before you go
He says that all he knows
Is “I am”
And if you say this too
As highest prayer
He and you
Could make amends
Over the water onto the land
Sometimes he stands beside the water’s edge
Looks down and sees me for all that I am
Røze from the Ashes 