lunedì 20 agosto 2018

To be or not to be. A Poem from Bhante Sujiva

Somehow I knew it would happen this way
Somehow I knew it would in a place like this
A clean and pleasant cottage right next to the sea
I wake up to find faint light peeping through the window
The air is fresh and cool, not freezing
I wonder of the season and hour
It could be late spring or early winter
It could be dusk or dawn
But this I know
I have to get up and walk to the sea
Putting on my robes, grabbing a jacket mindfully I stepped out walked the meandering foot path past the gate overgrown with wild thistle
Regular hush of waves lapping at the little rickety pier
The smell of salt in the air
Intermittent cries of gulls from afar

Hush, the waves sighed
The winds carried echoes into my mind
Say not sorry, console those lost spirits
Pipe instead for me, sandpiper
Pipe a song of hope
The wheels of time are clicking quickly by
Even love passes on
Somehow I knew they were coming
Two graceful sail boats can be seen at a distance
One white, one black side by side
On the white boat with white sails
Stood a tall, fair, handsome man
Eyes the color of emerald, hair the color of gold
Clad in pure white cotton, flowing
On his back spread two wings
Span about 5 meters
On the black boat with black sails
Stood a tall dark skinned, handsome man
Eyes pitch black as of a moonless night
Hair black, curled
Clad in black velvet, flowing
On his back spread two wings
Span about 5 meters
Somehow I knew my time had come
Somehow I knew I must choose
Which shall it be, white or black?
And they said rather impatiently
“It’s now or never, decide! We do not tarry here long, come!”
I knelt before them and closed my eyes
Let Death take me, I shall not choose
Be it White or Black, Life or Death or whatever
Breaths came and went as waves
The mind flickered like a candle flame would in the breeze
Now bright, now dark
Isn’t this what my life’s work and purpose is about?
To be and let be
Let Truth prevail
Hush, the waves whispered
Peace, whistled the winds
No eagle’s claws shall hold you
No crane shall carry you over
Time is an illusion
Even knowledge passes
When I finally opened my eyes
They had vanished
A gull above screamed
I watch it circle in quickening rhythm then shot like a star swallowed by the blue void
Isn’t this what practice about
The transcendence of Birth and Death?
Acceptance of and surrender to Ultimate is neither glorious Death or Eternal Life
Unravelling the threads of conditioning
Spells for the heart, true freedom
                          
                                                                                          Bhante Suijva   10.7.2018.  Ullapool, Scotland

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