The purest form of grace I know
Is shown in vows forged long ago;
A bodhi mind aspired to save
All beings caught within the wave
Of grim Samsara's round of birth --
A mighty Vow that shook the earth;
While from the heavens flowers fell,
That fluttered to the deepest hell,
And dharma fragrance even there
Perfumed the dark and hopeless air;
Then devas, men and hungry ghosts --
In every realm these countless hosts --
Saw piercing their Samsaric night
A dazzling and unhindered Light,
And heard these words: 'Would you receive
Rebirth in Bliss? Then just believe
In My resolve and power to save
All beings from Samsara's wave,
And say My Name, My Name alone,
That at the end, when life is done,
I shall appear before your eyes;
(You have My word that your demise
Pertains to but conditioned things);
Your bodhi mind shall rise on wings
To Sukhavati's blissful shore,
And Namo Amitabha ever more!'

Tibetan Brimstone butterflies wave wings madly at their paradise valley
In the beginning, before the beginning, and in the beginning
Their shaken snow globe makes them flutter in wild exuberance
As they reveal a mountain, then no mountain, then Kunlun again
Peace, followed by chaos, and then by peace
Mother Luna's kaleidoscope of enlightenment
Protected by the hooded one
Holds all worlds and shakes the four seasons
Nothingness, creation, abiding, destruction
The wheel of time
Moves the wind as it’s blown by vast circles of water
Aqua marine is washed again by golden earth
And in the center, the great opal mountain song of La
Nature's peace
Beyond white leopard snows, icy winds, and empty husks of death
Butterflies are born again
Shambhala’s mindful beat opens passage for light through darkness
Poets squint and ride on wings toward the hidden sunset kingdom
Watching another world's Avalon alive beneath a blue moon
Insulated chrysalis of love for all seasons
A fisherman, a carpenter, a shepherd, a merchant, a caterpillar
Discover a lush, isolated, peach grove
Nosing thickly scented nectar and purple primrose honey
In the jade valley of the kings, queens, and beggars
They meditate under the Bodhi Tree
Deep brown ****** lines are carved into their soft olive skin
Smooth hands are made rough, and then smooth again
Young, then old, and then young once more
Wisdom setting beside Queen Spirit Mother of the West
Sharing a bowl of her rice milk in harmony
Being in the realm between man and nature as Kalachakra turns
For six years the caterpillar eats of fig
And then the wheel breaks for flight one last time
Radiating light as she sheds her glorious wings
Here, the snow globe explodes flying petals of wild exuberance
Revealing a mountain, then no mountain, then Kunlun again
Transcending all, turning tears into the suns joyful rays
As they rise, then set, and then rise again
Nirvana
Beyond our Lost Horizon


© 2019 MJL

I just sat on the ******* bathroom floor
For 15 minutes
Listening to my breath faintly wheeze
Through the last cilia in my lung

I felt my chest rise and fall
Shallow

I take notice of the cold-*** tile
And the ache in my back
How my right bicep is throbbing
From a dogbite last night
How my knees ache from years of fighting
And my head pounds like a church bell
From lack of drugs and nicotine

If happiness is the cessation of all desire
Then please Buddha convince me
That my desire to walk the **** out of here
Is more insane than sitting on the ******* floor
Doing nothing.

Moon falls behind hills
solitary shadows
autumn wind
silence
bits of stars
vague and remote
walking amongst
ancient trees
in a courtyard
in the depths
of a temple
the flicker of lamps
the saffron of robes
the sound of wooden fish
the sound of Namo Amitabha is
peace
quiet like a flower, a grass
a wind, a rain
a sand, a stone
a dream, a season.