Poetry

Listening to a series of excellent dharma talks from the San Francisco Zen Center, I first learned about the ancient poem “Trust in Mind”^[Full text of the poem, “Xinxinming”.] by the Third Ancestor of the Zen tradition, Jianzhi Sengcan (鑑智僧璨)

It captures beautifully, even in translation, the essence of Zen.

“The Perfect Way is only difficult for those who pick and choose;
Do not like, do not dislike; all will then be clear.
Make a hairbreadth difference, and Heaven and Earth are set apart;
If you want the truth to stand clear before you, never be for or against.”

marking time,
eyes glazed, pupils constricted
to the head of a pin
from facing the blue white sterile light
for too long
a zombie tribe
numbering in the millions
if not more
waits.

this throng, agitated
in a subdued anesthetized
way,
crowns one of its own
a clown of sorts
knowing little of the past
less of the present
and practically nothing
of the future.
“why not? it could be worse."

in a strange unreality
a vaudeville show becomes
its own rehearsal,
a dreamish state from which
only an atomic flash
can awaken a person.

vicious neurotic,
blue blood coursing in black heart.
eyes piercing with lust.