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"amitabha" poems
You can't comb what's already breached you... diamonds finding diamonds in the rough. ~Amitabha~
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
Diamonds Finding Diamonds
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.
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Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 10:33 PM UTC
Buddhist temple
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!'
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May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC
The Purest Grace