-- Rabindranath Tagore Stray Birds
"Love the earth and
sun and the animals, despise riches,
give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid
and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate
tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and
indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing
known or unknown, or to any man or number of men [sic] --
go freely with powerful uneducated persons, and with the
young, and with the mothers or families -- re-examine all
you have been told in school or church or in any book, and
dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh
shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency, not
only in its words, but in the silent lines of its lips and
face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in every
motion and joint of your body.
-- Walt Whitman
from the 1855 Preface to Leaves of Grass
"The
foundation of all spiritual practice is love. That you
practice,
this well is my only request. Of course, to be able to do so
in all
situations will take time, but you should not lose courage.
If we wish
happiness for mankind, it is the only way."
When the Ironbird Flies
An Interview with His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama
Interview by Mike Hellbach. Translated by Sherpa Tulku.
Tricycle's Daily Dharma: January 26, 2006
An Ordinary Person
A bodhisattva is an ordinary person who
takes up a course in his or her life that moves in the
direction of Buddha. You're a bodhisattva. I'm a bodhisattva;
actually, anyone who directs their attention, their life, to
practicing the way of life of a Buddha is a bodhisattva.
--Kosho Uchiyama, Opening the Hand of Thought
A Blessing
Just
off the Highway to Rochester, Minnesota
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the
darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
~ James Wright ~
(Above the
River)
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