Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Buddha’s Enlightenment Day Poem

Buddha’s Enlightenment Day Poem

It took an Indian prince six years of renunciation
Six years of wandering, six years of meditation
To awaken to what the farmer knew every morning of her life

Deep darkness, clearing skies of vivid stars
And each winter without fail
One joyous moment as the morning star
First startles the trembling night sky

You have to already be awake to witness this
We are already a part of each and every creation

The stars, seen or unseen. The prairie grasses frozen frosted still
The rice in the paddies picking up the dawn breeze
The rhythm of the sky and stars, dawns and sunsets, twilights, dusk and darkness
The heat, the dust, the barren, lush or harsh landscapes
Can you see the hawk’s breath as she soars low before you startled eyes?

Dawn announces the coming round
Earth wheels to greet a brighter beckoning
Attainment fades with the morning star
As it appeared, so it disappears
The young prince, renunciant
Smiles, touching the earth
Just as the daughter bent to plant the rice
The stars, the earth, the rice, the water, the farmer
The daughter’s offering to the prince under the Bodhi tree

Wake up Wake up Hurry up Wake Up

Draw back the veil, open the blinds
Wake up Wake up
Did you see the morning Star?
Did you oversleep again?

When the stone girls sighs
Her breath does not cloud
The Great Round Mirror

You have to be awake to attain this and let it go:
One by one each creation has it
One by one each creation is complete.


Margaret M. Wheeler
Tall Grass Zen