SUNDAY POEM

Show me in your emerald heart, in the
current of your river. Show me how
to open my hands, your laughing light
trembling between my palms.

Tara, show me

I have left the house with no roof. Hands …

SUNDAY POEM

You opened your mouth and swallowed it all
believing purity of heart could transform
mercury into mead by some
mysterious alchemy of the spirit.

You sucked in poisoned milk; you swallowed stones
disguised as potato soup. Bullets rumbled…

You are a source of love, blessing, positive energy and
sacredness in the world. You are more
than just a consumer of these qualities.

When you choose to be a source
you shape the world with your presence.

Take a …

SUNDAY POEM

When it’s freezing in February
February and freezing

I’ll slip into my story quilt and dream.

emerald droplets fly into the night
from the cup of my hands in your cold,
swift waters. sky widens the arc of …

SUNDAY POEM: KALI

Kali, queen of the night-sky, your skull
necklace rattles on dancing breasts.
Blood stains the cavern and corners
of your mouth. Your obsidian face gleams;
your ruby tongue defies all who claim dominion.
Your many hands grip …

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES 9

9

Yasodhara

Yesterday
the magnolia’s perfect bowl
brimmed with rain-water

Now, a single petal,
mottled cream and brown,
droops outward

The bowl is broken

Rahula runs towards me
his laughing face upturned

Two raindrops tremble
on the …

In this poem, we stand with Siddhartha at the boundary between the world we know and the one that awaits our unfolding. What threshold invites you to step into your future today? How do you feel about it? Will you …

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES

7

Siddhartha At The Boundary Of The Sakya Kingdom

Moonless night; cloud
silk across lowering sky.

In my father’s palace Yasodhara sleeps,
my son’s newborn body curled against her breast:
a snail in its shell.

I have turned …

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES

6

Suddhodana’s Dilemma

The king sits in council
with his ministers. His heir
has vanished,
choosing the ascetic’s empty bowl
over the imperial crown.

Seven sages had predicted this
the day Siddhartha was born.
His would be a …

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES

5

Yasodhara’s Lament

Tides of grief
through my veins

From this swollen heart into estuaries

I mourn the wrack
to come

I have stored pain like marrow
like treasure in the caves

of my bones

Bloodwaters crash and …