"The Effect of Cause Despaired," William Bronk

      "Cause and Effect" from Olmo Ling Bon Buddhist Center

Wanting the significance that cause and effect

might have (we see it in little things where it is)

not seeing it in any place

important to us (it is in our lives but in ways

that deny each other) and the totality,

I suppose, is what I mean—it isn’t there—

we look around: the possibilities,

dreams and diversions, whatever else there is.

"Midsummer," William Bronk

                                                                                         "Guardare-ro" by Idhuna




                                          A green world, a scene of green deep
                                          with light blues, the greens made deep
                                          by those blues.  One thinks how
                                          in certain pictures, envied landscapes are seen
                                          (through a window, maybe) far behind the serene
                                          sitter's face, the serene pose, as though
                                          in some impossible mirror, face to back,
                                          human serenity gazed at a green world
                                          which gazed at this face.
                                                                                    And see now,
                                          here is that place, those greens
                                          are here, deep with those blues.  The air
                                          we breathe is freshly sweet, and warm, as though
                                          with berries.  We are here.  We are here.
                                          Set this down too, as much
                                          as if an atrocity had happened and been seen.
                                          The earth is beautiful beyond all change.

"Deepening the Wonder," Hafiz

Death is a favor to us,
But our scales have lost their balance.

The impermanence of the body
Should give us great clarity,
Deepening the wonder in our senses and eyes

Of this mysterious existence we share
And are surely just traveling through.

If I were in the Tavern tonight,
Hafiz would call for drinks

And as the Master poured, I would be reminded
That all I know of life and myself is that

We are just a midair flight of golden wine
Between His Pitcher and His Cup.

If I were in the Tavern tonight,
I would buy freely for everyone in this world

Because our marriage with the Cruel Beauty
Of time and space cannot endure very long.

Death is a favor to us,
But our minds have lost their balance.

The miraculous existence and impermanence of Form
Always makes the illuminated ones
Laugh and Sing.