Taoist Poetry
1)
I made my temple from clouds and mountains
where the altar lies a river might flow.
As the ancient pine darkens the Immortal is seen.
What use is there for scriptures
when the light of what cannot be explained
settles all around?
2)
The May breeze
gently drifts through pine woods
bringing the fragrance of wild garlic and bluebells.
Those who look from the road
cannot see passed the flowers.
3)
Sitting in candlelight
quietly listening to rain against the window;
as the storm passes
night air is filled with silence,
I breathe its stillness into me
so my body remembers.
4)
We were born with the deep blue sky resting over us,
emerald grass to soften our feet,
meadow flowers to colour our view and crystal streams
to bathe our skin.
We were born free,
free to gaze at stars, to climb trees and sleep beneath
drifting clouds. We were given the luxury of having nothing
to do.
What has become of us?
This is our kingdom yet we enslave ourselves.
We are handed countless jewels but chase for things
that do not matter. The Sacred is present all around
and because it is still we do not see it. Look, look!
Slow down and trust the simple way;
fill your day with silence and stillness, let what is holy
settle in you. Free yourself and be at rest with the Natural.
This is your kingdom.
5)
I am a simple man
there is nothing complicated about what I say.
Sit here with me
in my tiny garden.
I will show you how to cultivate
the sutra of grass and flowers.
6)
I light a fire
and sit watching the flames curl around
lumps of coal.
Nothing else to do, just me and the cat
sitting in the dark as the warm orange glow
fills a cold winter room.
7)
Another evening sat idle by the window.
There's plenty to be done
but isn't there always?
What fool would miss the dusk chorus of a Mistle Thrush
when it sings so eloquently of what does not come or go?
8)
Sitting to forget.
Here I am again watching sparrows whirl, their dance
filled with early dawn light.
Not in lotus or zazen, I perch
on the arm of a chair,
forgetting why I sat there.
