Morning Practice
(for Dónal C.)

The leaves: I’m sweeping them but still they fall
upon the steps and all along the path –
I wonder if I’ll reach the boundary wall.

The storm last night increased my brush’s haul,
though for this rain they will say dhanyavaad,
I’m sweeping up the leaves and still they fall.

How fine to hear the dark blue song thrush call
while smaller birds enjoy their dusty bath –
they’re sure to reach and pass the boundary wall.

Sometimes I think I’ll never clear them all –
Like Milarepa fearing Marpa’s wrath –
so still I’m sweeping leaves and still they fall.

From here in Sikkim via West Bengal,
my pilgrimage goes on into Sarnath,
I plan to make it inside Deer Park’s wall.

I hope this spell in detail I’ll recall,
once I progress into its aftermath.
Meanwhile I’m sweeping leaves but still they fall,
I don’t know if I’ll reach the boundary wall.

Reprinted with the kind permission of Maeve O’Sullivan.
From Elswhere p.85 Alba Publishing

Dubliner Mave O’Sullivan’s poetry and haiku have been widely published, anthologised and translated.

Her four collections are Elsewhere (2017); Initial Response, An A-Z of haiku moments (2011); Vocal Chords (2014); and Double Rainbow (2005) all available at Alba Publishing

Maeve is a winner of the Listowel Writers’ Week poetry competition for a single poem, and conducts haiku workshops with adults and children.

A lecturer in Media Studies, she lives in Dublin

Maeve’s new collection of poetry, Elsewhere is available from Alba Publishing. 

Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,

and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon

accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are

friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.

 Li Po

The blood of Irish, Catholic immigrants
And Russian, Jewish refugees
Flows through the veins of this Buddhist nun,
A seeker of wisdom, compassion and peace,

Whose path has encircled the world and alights
Now in Edinburgh, where it has stayed.
But my heart cries out for Manchester,
For Manchester where I was made.

And I weep to see your suffering,
Caused by minds deluded by hate,
Yet tears of sadness are mixed with pride,
Seeing what makes my hometown so great.

Strength and kindness in adversity,
That brave, indomitable spirit,
Bred by love that welcomes diversity,
All embellished with pithy, street wit.

Mancunia, Mancunia!
That fortress of northern souls,
Your red brick streets and fields of dreams,
Bear witness to impossible goals.

In grief we stand united,
United we’ll rise from the ruins,
Like so many who’ve gone before us,
For in Manchester, that’s how we do things.

by Ani Rinchen Khandro, AKA Jackie Glass, Mancunian.

A Muslim comforts an elderly Jewish woman (Independent News)

I who am dead a thousand years,
    And wrote this sweet archaic song,
Send you my words for messengers
    The way I shall not pass along.

I care not if you bridge the seas,
    Or ride secure the cruel sky,
Or build consummate palaces
    Of metal or of masonry.

But have you wine and music still,
    And statues and a bright-eyed love,
And foolish thoughts of good and ill,
    And prayers to them who sit above?

How shall we conquer? Like a wind
    That falls at eve our fancies blow,
And old Moeonides the blind
    Said it three thousand years ago.

O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,
    Student of our sweet English tongue,
Read out my words at night, alone:
    I was a poet, I was young.

Since I can never see your face,
    And never shake you by the hand,
I send my soul through time and space
    To greet you. You will understand.

James Elroy Flecker was educated at Dean Close School, Cheltenham, where his father was headmaster, and at Uppingham and Trinity College, Oxford.

After university he joined the Diplomatic Service, spending time in Constantinople and Beirut. In 1913 he went to Switzerland to seek a cure for his tuberculosis but died there two years later at the age of 31.

to practice noticing
to understand simple things
to give myself clarity
to face inevitable difficulties
to make a conscious choice
to welcome my feelings
to know pain
to experience the bliss of effort
to take gentle possession of my mind
to free my mind
to be aware of my sinsitivity
to dip below superficiality
to brighten my eyes
to forget how i look
to stop moving
to let myself be how i am
to love deeply
to risk being myself
to sit upright like a pyramid
to stay still
to breathe in the air
to encourage a positive habit
t o behave in the manner of one who woke up
to pursue freedom
to touch the ground
to learn without words
to unlock my heart
to go beyond

Lisa Cullen

Lisa Cullen writes:  Two women are waiting on a packed train platform in Calcutta.  One of the moment is hunched over reading The Spiral Dance.  The other is absorbed in biting her fingernails.  A cow ambles by.  A rickshaw driver is arguing with a naked sadhu.  A Tibetan woman is selling bone malas.
                                                          “Which character am I?”

Summer grasses:
all that remains of great soldiers’
imperial dreams

– Basho

O Snail,
Climb Mount Fuji
But slowly, slowly!

K.Isha

” I have not heard of a single Buddha, past or present,
who has been enlightened by sacred prayers
and scriptures.”

– Bassui

The wind has settled, the blossoms have fallen;
Birds sing, the mountains grow dark –
This is the wondrous power of Buddhism.

– Ryokan

The nature of the Mind when understood,
No human speech can compass or disclose.
Enlightenment is naught to be attained,
And he that gains it does not say he knows.

– Huang Po

Sitting cross legged on a wooden floor
     above the tiny desk, pine branches hang in rain
before my eyes thru glass – a drop falls from the roof edge

broken earth here, pebbles brought from afar scattered
     by white treestump, green grass Crowds the path –

Grey streaks my beard, I began sitting quiet
     lately, but it’s too late to read Lankavatara,
Surangama, Diamond and ten thousand sutras –
     bald head holds no Chinese, Sanskrit, Japanese,
and now Rheumatism twinges my Knees ehn I walk –
Well, with such pines hung in grey sky                   
     I still must be Buddha here – If not
                                who am I?
                                                                    May 3, 1971

Praise to Tara

Homage to The Three Jewels

Homage to Guru, Deva and Dakini

Homage to you Tara, who bloom with love and compassion

Homage to you Tara, who dwell in wisdom and certainty

Look how you tend to pain and ease the afflictions of all

Look how you protect from dangers and lift the downtrodden

Look how you subdue all negativities and place beings in happiness and joy

Your enlightened form is shining with beauty

Like a 16 year old maiden in her bloom

Draped in silks, adorned with precious jewels

You appear in glittering rainbow colours

Your mind and heart is the union of ancient wisdom and eternal love

Manifesting here and now for the benefit of all

With Amitaba’s light sparkling in the topknot of your hair

You are sure to lead us to the pure lands

Tara, I take refuge in you, please protect and uplift me

Help me to be useful in my life, to really benefit myself and others

Help me to transform every negativity

And bring forth every good quality

Just like you have done

Your tiara shines in splendour

The five poisons having blossomed into their full potential

Let me become a wisdom holder just like that

Your left hand holds three precious Upala flowers, blue like the sky

In honour of the enlightened ones of the three times

Praise to all who have realized the unsurpassable Bodhicitta

Your right hand is in the mudra of giving

Whatever beings need and long for

Always pure, joyful, natural and relaxed in your nature

You rest on a beautiful lotus and moon disc

Your measureless intelligence and compassion shining out in all directions

Tara, compassionate guide of beings

Take me by the hand, help me avoid the lesser paths

Lead me to the higher realms of peace and love

Include me in your mandala of ambrosia so freely given

Let it flow through me and – as if by magic – on to all beings

Who are of the same nature, inseparable from love and light

And let them too become fearless and free like you

Tara, great protector

By the power of vows, interdependence and all our merit

Protect us from being imprisoned by negative circumstances

Protect us from losing our way, protect us from outer calamities

And the inner misfortune of being overwhelmed by negative emotions

By our devotion, remove the veils that hinder clear seeing

Remove the obstacle of ill will and negative actions

Remove the obstacle of clinging to ego and transient things that cannot be relied upon

Remove the obstacle of getting caught in the snares of the world

Remove the obstacle of denigrating others

Remove the obstacle of not understanding how precious we are

Help us to realize the empty nature of phenomena and rest in

The blissful Bodhicitta that is the source of every useful thing

Noble Tara, compassionate mother of beings

Inspire us to be like you

Fearless in suppressing poisonous negativity

Inexhaustible in positive actions for others

Always victorious, joyful and immeasurably kind

By our devotion, please send your blessings

In your white aspect, you grant prosperity, comfort, long life and peace

In your green aspect, you remove obstacles on the path

and show the way of enlightened activity

With your left foot extended, you are always ready to act for beings in need

In all your aspects you are master of skills and medicine

Endowed with power to cure the ills of the living

Tara, compassionate and nurturing one

As long as our devotion remains

Mature us in your nectar of boundless compassion, wisdom and love

                           Let us understand it to be our own nature

Help us gain confidence in the view

Help us rest assured that it is so

Help us to be inseparable from you

Om Tare Tuttare Ture Svaha

The beginner in meditation
Resembles a hunting dog
having a bad dream

۞

His parents are having tea
With his new girlfriend –
Like a general inspecting his troops.

۞

Skiing in a red and blue outfit,
Drinking cold beer with a lovely smile –
I wonder if I’m one of them?

۞

Coming home from work,
Still he hears the phone
Ringing in his office.

۞

Gentle day’s flower –
The hummingbird competes
with the stillness of the air.

Chögyam Trungpa