Original Dhamma Poems, composed by forum members

[Sage_of_Serenity]

As is usually the case with most, awakening from sitting practice, I found myself inspired to poetry according to the latent potential of the Buddha within us all. It’s become a practice that I don’t seek with any desire for its craving defeats our free-spirited inherent abilities. Nevertheless, we come to this pass once again:

In The Heart of Now

Can you drift without desire,
Freed from muck and worldly mire?
All you need is yours to get
For tomorrow’s not here yet.
The point of rest, the final place
Free of fear, free of disgrace.
No need to seek, no need to race
The now contains your perfect space.
Let stillness hold what does not flee
Each breath unveils eternity.
Completion dwells where you belong
In transience, a timeless song

[Sumana]

Golden wings toward the snowscape

There was a little devotee—
A golden ladybug,
praying in the middle of Kuan Yin Hall.

I picked him up,
right on the spot
where people kneel down
and bow before the Buddha.

I asked the nun about his fate.
She answered: “Outside!”
I said: “But it is very cold outside.”
The Venerable replied: “Outside is his home!”

I thought, The way out is in,
but for this little one,
there was no escape within.

So I carried him to the balcony,
held him gently in the cold light.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Please be safe,” I said.

A miracle, in the middle of letting go—
he flapped his golden wings,
soaring toward the white snowscape.
Pieces of sunlight were scattering,
illuminating his path of freedom.

A single motion,
that golden flapping of wings
mirrors the butterfly effect—
One tiny fluctuation
rippling through the galaxy.

Our universe continues to obey the order
to the law of cause and effect,
Dependent Origination at play.

That golden ladybug saved me.
And one day, in the probable future,
a little girl in me will be free from all of this.

Her golden wings will glitter
in the shimmering ray of dust.
Awakening—
in the middle of loving.

Chuang Yen Monastery, December 2024.

[Sumana]

Morning Gāthā

Tasting
tasting
life

Drinking
nectar
of breath

Every morning,
a new citta.

Light from within—
may all beings
peacefully wake.

[Sumana]

The Heart Renunciation

Someone lit incense in Bodh Gaya,
Someone pressed mangosteens in Colombo, Someone travelled to her motherland,
tourist by passport, local by blood.

Grandmother passes rice and salt,
vegan since forever.
She laughs with all her gums dancing,
high dome cheeks round and glowing,
stern eyes placing justice
exactly where it belonged.

And now, at her table,
a grandchild sips her tea,
thinking, how peaceful life is.
Tea and family, she counts each breath a blessing, folds her napkin,
and gets ready
to walk toward the monastery.

[Dogen]

Do good, avoid the evil scheme;
Empty the heart — ever sages deem.
Not here nor there does the flood seem;
Dream keeps dreaming an empty dream.

[Dogen]

All beings run from suffering.
All beings run towards delight.
Some seek delight through suffering.
Some suffer when there is delight.

Ignorance — root of suffering,
So I’ve heard from the Dharma king.
That Śākyamuni I salute,
Who taught us how to clear the root.

For crossing over with a craft,
With the simile of the raft,
Not to grasp but to throw away —
To this perfect wisdom I pray.

[Sumana]

Bể

A toddler was holding a glass bottle.
“Bể! Bể!” she said out loud.
Was it “ocean”—or “broken”—to her?
The answer was…Ocean.
Always Ocean.

Everything that was “broken”
drifts at sea.
All sharp edges
softened by the waves.
All shards will be
smoothly
carried to shore.

[Jirka]

Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem “The Panther” has inspired me.

I’m not good at writing poetry in English. Nevertheless, I have compiled a different version from the existing translations.

From seeing many lifes, his seeing is so exhausted
that it no longer holds anything anymore
for him, the world revolves in endless circles
and behind them nothing at all

The endless steps which round out and re-enter
that tightest circuit of their turning drill
are like a dance of an illusion about a center
wherein there stands benumbed a thirsty will

Only sometimes does the sky open quietly
an image of the bright full moon pours in
permeates the stillness of the mind
and in the heart ceases to be

[Dogen]

Time being a single word is the myriad worlds,
Time being a single world is the myriad words,
Time being no single word is the myriad worlds,
Time being no single world is the myriad words.

[jmac]

Alone he travels through the forest of life
Hunting fishing
Learning the skills called survival

The ancient myths and well worn cliffs are part of the air he breathes
The wolves howl and the sound of a broken branch are familiar
The sky stretches out along the vast trail of the journey
Making him wonder if the adventure
Will ever end
In his heart he knows
The joy of finding the path is shared
By all who understand what the word adventure means
For the journey through life is most
Joyous when the adventure is shared, sending out sparks to light the way and maybe meeting a fellow traveler once in a while
To tell our stories and create our myths
So that a part of us will always
Remain on that big adventure map
You know the map
The one you lost when the journey began

[Danamitra]

Dukkha

In one life I am a king.

In the next, I am a begger.

From wealth to destitution.

I am one day a mendicant titthiya.

The next a criminal.

My relations, finding them promises vanishing.

My mother, constantly struck down by the murderer.

Myself, born ceaselessly, death will murder me each life.

Fortune is a wheel.

Crushed on it by kamma rājas.

There is no safe refuge in samsara.

[BugzNZ]

I have a dog

His name is Bill

He is my Teacher

Sadhu Sadhu Sadhu

[Sumana]

Loka gāthā

The mass of mettā in this body
mirrors the emotional subtle energy,
the body of the sun.

In every ocean, through every world:
expanding and contracting.
The universe is breathing.

Pali version

Mettā puñjo ayaṃ kāye,
Sūriyassa sukhuma kāya paṭibimbaṃ.
Bahū samuddā ca lokadhātu ca:
Vivaṭṭana saṃvaṭṭa,
Sabbaloko passasati.

Haiku version

Sukhuma rūpaṃ,
Olārika mettā rūpaṃ,
Pabhassara cittaṃ,
Sukhuma sūriya dhammaṃ.

[Taman]

wow I’m impressed with your ability to write original sentences in Pali!!!

[Sumana]

20 minutes of silence—
a lifetime of moments
unfolded.

[Amar]

Jailbreak

The start of the process of clinging
Like an illusion of “smell” from the kitchen of I-making, mine-making
In actuality, a stingy, horrible smell
An instance, after the reading of Saw Simile
At first a bit regret about hateful moments
Then, bit by bit, clinging to the notion of opportunity, “opportunity in disguise”, for the elimination of anger
Clinging, on spot with the words from inside “not even a Saw”
Although prevention of anger
But not the prevention of tanhā, the I-making and mine-making
Realisation when, some hard moments
Hard moment, and words, “Not even a Saw. For whom?”
None other than some I, some mine
A form of silabbataparāmāsa
Then, again thought, none other than sīla, samādhi and pañña from now

[Dogen]

The word that names it real conceals it too,
and every turning hides a further face;
what holds you here is not what once held you,
but something nameless, sheltered in its place.

[Dogen]

A zennin among the nikayavadin,
An agamavadin among the zennin—
It all just depends on where your eye might fall;
And perhaps it’s best to say nothing at all.

[Sumana]

*They live in a diagonal world *
They don’t walk straight
*Everyone of them takes up more space *
Looking at them, our heads turn side way!